


You gotta rub me the right way!

by Squishmitten



Series: Massage [2]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Fuck Canon, Gay Panic, Massage Class, Mutual Pining, Purple space hopper, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-07-11 10:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15970247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squishmitten/pseuds/Squishmitten
Summary: After being so intrigued by the mysterious Bernie during their evening classes, Serena is determined to get to know her new colleague better.Bernie finds herself a flustered mess around her new colleague Serena. How will she cope with working alongside herandseeing her half naked and oily on the massage table?





	1. Chapter 1

**Group chat: Kev &Paul&Serena**

 

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Boys! Cancel whatever plans you had for Friday. Takeaway, wine and gossip at my house. Trust me, you’ll love it! _

**_Kevin Barker:_ ** _ You can’t just hint at juicy gossip and give no clues, Campbell! _

**_Paul Michaels:_ ** _ What he said. You can’t keep us hanging until Friday. _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ All I’ll say is that I now know Bernie from massage class is neither a private investigator nor a spy. More info will be provided on Friday, upon the receipt of a decent bottle of Shiraz. _

**_Kevin Barker:_** _*gasp* We’re in!_

**_Paul Michaels:_ ** _ I can’t wait! _

 

  
Friday evening saw Kev and Paul on Serena’s doorstep at 7.30 sharp, each clutching a pair of bottles of Shiraz. They were taking no chances that there wouldn’t be enough wine to keep the gossip flowing. They needn’t have worried though, Serena was absolutely dying to fill them in on everything she had learned that week about the massage class mystery woman.

“A world-renowned trauma surgeon I can picture, I suppose. But a Major in the Army? She seemed so shy in class, Serena. I can’t picture her in camouflage, barking orders!” Kev shook his head.

“Oh, I can!” Serena replied, with a slightly dreamy look in her eye.

“Serena Campbell! Do you have the hots for our PI slash Spy slash Army Major slash trauma surgeon? I didn’t even know you batted for both sides!” Paul almost spilt his wine, he was so excited about this new revelation.

“Well, I may have dipped a toe in sapphic waters in the past. There was a woman in Stepney I had something of a post-divorce fling with, many years ago.”

Paul and Kev both leant forward, eager to find out some more about their friend’s romantic past.

“Just how serious was the fling? I cannot believe you didn’t mention before that you’re bi, Serena!” Kev shook his head in mock reproof. “Oh my goodness, we have to start getting you involved in the local LGBTQ+ society. This is so exciting.”

“Let’s not get too carried away Kev. I have enough on my plate, without joining societies. Besides, I don’t generally feel the need to actually label myself, but I can’t deny that Berenice Wolfe is pressing my buttons.” Serena toyed with the stem of her wine glass as she pictured Bernie in Army uniform. And not for the first time.

“She’s already been pressing your button? Oh my.” Paul said, with an exaggerated, sly wink.

“Hey, minds out of the gutter please gentlemen. I don’t even know yet if your gaydar is correctly tuned where Bernie is concerned. I do know she’s divorced, with two grown up children. She doesn’t talk about herself much, particularly where her personal life is concerned. She is an absolutely amazing surgeon. It’s like a switch is flipped as soon as there’s a trauma patient in front of her. Quiet, shy Bernie vanishes and Major Wolfe appears.”

“Serena Campbell, you really are smitten aren’t you? Are we going to hear tales of you sneaking off to the supply cupboard for a bit of secret sapphic slap and tickle?”

Serena reached across the table and swatted Kevin’s arm. “You will  _ not! _ I don’t believe in workplace dalliances, thank you very much. It’s bad enough when the nurses and the F1s get found in compromising positions on hospital premises. Could you imagine how fast the rumour mill would be spinning if I got caught in flagrante? And with a woman no less?” she shook her head dismissively.

“I can’t wait until the new classes start up and I get to meet the mysterious Major Wolfe. Are we going to swap partners over the weeks, by the way? Or will you want to keep the lovely Bernie all to yourself, Serena?” Paul gave her a sly grin.

“Well, there’s a chance you’ll be snagged by the inimitable Dusty Foulds at least one week Paul, assuming she’s signed up for the new classes. Unless there are enough new women for her to try and set Neville up with, of course. Actually Serena, I’m quite surprised she didn’t collar you. Serena? Earth to Serena!” Kev waved a hand in front of Serena’s face, as she was clearly miles away.

“What? Oh sorry, I was just thinking about something Bernie said to me during the last week of class. She mentioned Dusty had tried to set her up with Neville but said that he wouldn’t be her type. Something like that anyway. How would she know, having never met him?”

Kev tapped the side of his nose in a knowing fashion, “The gaydar rarely fails me Serena, I told you. I bet you’re far more her type than Neville the accountant.”

“Look, if you’re getting nowhere at work with finding out more about the elusive Bernie, why not see if you can persuade her to come to our next booze and takeaway evening? You can sell it to her as a good way for her to become better acquainted with a couple of her fellow classmates before it all kicks off again in a couple of weeks.” Paul suggested.

“Good idea!” enthused Kev, “We can ply her with drink to lower the inhibitions, then swoop in and prise some information out of her. Hopefully, we can at least find out which team she plays on, for Serena’s sake.”

Kev gave Serena a sly grin. She maturely poked her tongue out in response.

“It actually isn’t a bad thought, I will admit. The dinner invitation part, at least. I’ll see what I can do on Monday. I do know that so far she has resisted a couple of different invitations to go over to Albie’s for welcome drinks. Maybe she’ll be more receptive to a small, informal dinner for four. I do like the idea of persuading her under the guise of meeting you two before classes begin.”

At that, she emptied the remainder of the third bottle into their glasses and reached for the last of the quartet of bottles that the boys had brought along.

“No more for me thanks, Serena. I’m on duty at 9 am tomorrow, and I’d rather not show myself up to the lower ranks by turning up hungover and stinking of booze. I’d better switch to water once I finish this.” Paul was a detective inspector in CID at a police station not too far from the hospital.

“Ugh, I suppose I should do the sensible thing too. I have a ton of marking to wade through. It’s bad enough trying to decipher essays on the kids’ opinions of the themes of masculinity and femininity in Macbeth when stone cold sober.” Kevin grimaced and rolled his eyes at the prospect of the stack of poorly scrawled papers sitting on the desk at home.

Serena sighed and moved the unopened bottle away.

“Well if you’re both going to behave yourselves, I suppose I had better follow suit. Actually, although I’m not scheduled to work tomorrow, I do have some reports to finish off for Hanssen. A certain new colleague of mine is on shift, and I could take the opportunity to issue the dinner invitation. Does next Friday suit you both, if I’m successful?”

Paul checked his diary, and it was decided that as he had a rare full weekend off, Bernie could be given the choice of either the Friday or the Saturday, thus giving her less excuse to say no.

They all clinked glasses, and toasted the prospect of getting to know a bit more about Major Berenice Wolfe.


	2. Chapter 2

Serena walked on to the ward at 9.30 the following morning, much to Fletch’s surprise.

“I didn’t think you were scheduled on today, Serena.”

“I’m not officially here, and you haven’t seen me. I have reports to finish for Mr Hanssen and they’re easier to do here, where I have the figures to hand. Unless there’s a coffee in your hand for me, consider me to be wearing a cloak of invisibility today, Mr Fletcher.”

Without pausing to wait for a response, Serena carried on to the office she was now sharing with Bernie Wolfe. Glancing over at the other desk, she shook her head. It was a jumble of paper cups from Pulses, crisp packets and chocolate wrappers, an old, browning apple core, a stack of folders and other miscellaneous objects. One thing that did catch her eye was a picture frame that hadn’t been there the previous day. Serena glanced back out on to the ward, saw no sign of her new co-lead and picked up the frame. There was a slightly younger looking Bernie in military uniform, with her arms around the shoulders of what Serena assumed to be the Wolfe offspring. Serena barely registered the slim, dark haired young man, and the long haired blonde girl. It was the sight of Major Berenice Wolfe in full dress uniform that held her gaze.

Feeling rather voyeuristic and slightly ashamed, she pulled her phone from her handbag and took a snapshot of the picture, focusing solely on the smiling, uniform clad figure in the centre. It was merely to show Kev and Paul, she told herself, slipping the phone back in her bag. She was about replace the picture frame where she had found it, when the door opened, and there was Bernie, in the flesh.

“Ah, Good morning, Bernie. I was just admiring your family portrait here.” Serena hoped her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “This is your son and daughter, I presume?”

“Oh, Ms Campbell. S-Serena, I mean.” Serena had admonished her several times during the week not to be so formal. “Yes, that was taken a few years ago at a medal awards ceremony. Cameron is 25 now, and Charlotte just turned 21.”

Bernie took the picture from Serena and looked at it. There was a look of such sadness in her eyes that Serena’s hand gave Bernie’s shoulder a comforting rub, without her even realising what she was doing. The feeling made Bernie think back to that final week of massage class, and the touch of Serena Campbell’s hands on her naked skin. Her palms became instantly damp, and she nearly dropped the frame.

Bernie carefully placed the photograph back on the desk, shoving aside an empty coffee cup to do so. That action made her realise quite how embarrassingly messy her desk was and she grabbed the waste paper bin to begin to dispose of the accumulated detritus.

“Erm, er, sorry Serena. I haven’t even been here a full week, and I’m already making the place look untidy. I didn’t think you were on shift this weekend.” Bernie was aware she was babbling but seemed unable to stop herself. “I thought that having weekends off was one of the perks of being the boss. It’s certainly what Jeremy Hunt would have the country believe at least.”

“There’s no need to use that kind of language, Bernie. We don’t talk about that  _ Hunt, _ unless absolutely necessary.” There was a particular venom in Serena’s voice when saying the name, which was reserved for ex-husbands and Secretaries of State for Health.

Bernie shot Serena one of her rare, quick little smiles.

“I’m not here today officially. The compilation of Henrik’s end of month reports was rather neglected this week in the face of an overflowing ward. I thought I would get them completed more easily here, with all the stats in front of me, than at home. Just pretend I’m not here.” Serena smiled across the desks at her new colleague.

  
  


The chances of Berenice Wolfe being able to ignore Serena Campbell’s presence were zero. Absolutely zero. After being paired with Serena for the final massage class the Friday before, Bernie’s mind had been filled with the other woman. That entire weekend, she had thought of little else. When she woke early on the Monday morning, she was determined to clear her head and focus on her new job. Bernie just wanted to make a good impression and try to quietly fit into her first permanent full-time NHS position. 

Being introduced to her new co-lead and seeing exactly who it was, had brought Bernie the closest she had been to fainting since the IED explosion which had ended her career with the RAMC. ‘I almost didn’t recognise you with your clothes on!’ How on Earth did one respond to a statement like that? Particularly in front of your brand new CEO. She stood there mouth agape, undoubtedly looking something akin to a stunned halibut, while Serena explained the coincidence of them both attending the same evening class. Bernie still wasn’t entirely sure that Henrik Hanssen had actually believed a word of the explanation.

The ward seemed to be rather less manic than it had been during the week, meaning Bernie could take the opportunity to try and get caught up with some of her admin.  _ Try _ being the operative word. The presence of Serena in the office wasn’t helping her levels of concentration one little bit. Not that Serena was doing anything other than working away diligently at her reports. However, the light, citrusy perfume she wore, the whisper of her silky, leopard print blouse as she moved and the sight of her tapping her pen against her full, pursed lips all conspired to destroy Bernie’s chances of achieving much in the office. 

 

“Er coffee, Serena? I thought I would go down and get coffee. Can I bring you something back?” Bernie needed to leave the confines of the room and get a breath of air. Coffee seemed the perfect excuse.

“You must have read my mind, Bernie. I would absolutely love a triple shot latte please.”

After having been sat behind her desk most of the morning, Bernie chose to take the stairs to the ground floor in an attempt to burn off a little excess energy. She also took the opportunity to nip outside for a quick smoke. She was doing her best to cut down, and the plan was to eventually give up altogether. However, after a morning of trying not to blatantly stare at Serena Campbell, Bernie needed a fag to calm herself down.

 

Ten minutes later, she was back upstairs, trying not to drop anything as she nudged the office door open. 

“Here you go, Serena. One triple shot latte. I also thought you might be getting peckish, so I got you this.” Bernie shyly placed a pain au chocolat on the desk next to the coffee cup.

Serena took a tentative sip of her coffee and gave a moan of pleasure that made every hair on Bernie’s body stand on end.

“Mmmm. You’re a lifesaver Bernie. I had a few drinks with the boys last night, so a medicinal pastry is just what the doctor ordered. Actually, thinking of the boys, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Would you like to come over for a takeaway and a few drinks at the weekend? Kev and Paul would love to get to know you a bit before the new class begins. I know you’re not working next weekend, because, of course, I did the schedule myself. Friday okay? Excellent. Pass me your phone and I’ll put my number and address in for you.”

Numbly, Bernie handed her mobile across the desk, feeling like she had just been run over by a charming and extremely beautiful steam-roller!

  
  


**Group chat: Kev &Paul&Serena**

 

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Get a load of this pic of the Wolfe in uniform!  _

**_Paul Michaels:_ ** _ No wonder you’ve gone all dreamy over her, Serena! _

**_Kevin Barker:_ ** _ *gasp* We can see why your knickers are in such a twist. _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Oi, watch it, you two! _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Friday night booze and takeaway for four is a go. _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Best behaviour please, boys... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter a while ago, and at the time the detestable Jeremy Hunt was still Secretary of State for Health. I haven’t changed it, because I like imagining the loathing that Serena would put behind spitting out his name! Just think of the growl...


	3. Chapter 3

**Group chat: Kev &Paul&Serena**

 

**_Kevin Barker:_ ** _ As much as I enjoyed last night, Serena, I still don’t feel like we know much more about Bernie than before! _

**_Paul Michaels:_ ** _ I was disappointed that we didn’t get to see Major Wolfe emerge. I was looking forward to seeing you melting, Serena ;) _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Paul, behave yourself! _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ I do agree, Kev. She didn’t exactly let her hair down, unfortunately. I think we need to persuade her to accompany us to the pub after class on Wednesday… _

  
  
  


Bernie looked around her somewhat bare flat. She couldn’t help contrasting it in her mind to Serena Campbell’s leafy detached. Even before the divorce, Bernie had never really been much of a homemaker. Throw cushions, knick-knacks and vases of flowers had never been her thing. As long as she had a comfortable place to sit and to sleep, she was happy. Her living room contained a 2 seater sofa, an armchair, a side table and a decent sized television on a stand. Decor was magnolia throughout, just as when she'd bought the place, and the only decorative touches were a few photos in cheap frames. The sofa and television were only really bought in the hope that her kids would someday deign to pay her a visit. The spare bedroom contained only a couple of dusty boxes of belongings which she still hadn’t bothered sorting through. Her own bedroom held a king sized bed, a tubular metal garment rail and a chest of drawers. Bernie had only bought a king size because it was an ex-display that the furniture showroom could deliver the following day. As she had been sleeping on an inflatable mattress which was doing her back no good, immediate delivery was a must. It certainly wasn’t like she ever envisioned sharing the over-sized bed with anyone. 

Well, in recent weeks, that last thing wasn’t  _ entirely _ true. Since meeting the force of nature that was Serena Campbell, she had begun to imagine sharing her bed with someone else. Bernie fantasised about sharing it with Serena, to be more accurate. And on one or two occasions, she awoke after dreaming about sharing it. The explicit nature of said dreams had made looking her co-lead in the eye a wee bit difficult on a couple of mornings.

Naturally, Bernie hadn’t seen the bedrooms when invited over to meet ‘the boys’. The cosy feel of Serena’s kitchen and living room had lead to Bernie imagining a large plush bed, with luxurious bedding and an abundance of pillows. Her imagination also placed Serena in the middle of that bed, in a low cut silk nightgown. And out of the low cut silk nightgown, if she was being entirely honest with herself.

  
  


After a long and busy day, Bernie was slumped in her armchair with a nice cold bottle of her favourite Thistly Cross Scottish cider in her hand. Tomorrow the massage course began again. She could still hardly believe she had allowed herself to be talked into attending more, and there was no way she could back out now. In fact, not only was she going to the classes, she had also found herself agreeing to go for drinks after, and to sharing a cab with Serena there and back. Serena had even adjusted the schedule to give them both a later start on Thursdays. There had been no reason Bernie could think of to say no. She was also pretty sure the wine and takeaway evenings were now practically mandatory too. Kev and Paul did seem like a great pair and maybe making friends and gaining some semblance of a social life wouldn’t entirely be a bad thing. 

If only she didn’t find herself becoming a mass of stuttering, red-faced nerves whenever she was around Serena. She was worse than any school girl in the throes of her first crush. Bernie Wolfe, ex-Army Major and world-class trauma surgeon had an undeniable, massive, and at her age, slightly embarrassing, crush on her co-lead. Her straight co-lead at that. In the interests of keeping a good working relationship, Bernie told herself she just needed to keep her feelings on a tight rein.

Bernie jumped as her mobile rang, buzzing away on the side table. It was her oldest friend, Kathryn Carson.

“Hi, Katie. How are you?”

“Never mind how I am, how are things going between you and the delicious Serena?”

Ever since Bernie’s divorce from Marcus ‘Piper’ Dunn, Katie had been trying to encourage Bernie into looking for love. It had been Katie who had wanted to go to the massage class where she had first met Serena and had angled to keep Bernie there even when she herself couldn’t continue attending. She had spotted Serena and decided she would be perfect for Bernie. Her glee, when Bernie told her about the identity of her new co-lead and office mate, was indescribable.

“We’re colleagues, Katie. Serena is fine. We’re getting on fine. Work is fine.”

“Come on, you’re more than just colleagues. She had you round for dinner last weekend. You still haven’t told me how that went either, Bernie. I want the gossip.”

Bernie sighed and rolled her eyes.

“There  _ is _ no gossip. Yes, I went round for a couple of drinks and a Chinese takeaway. As did Paul and Kevin, two friends of hers who are also taking the massage course. Besides all that, nothing is going to happen between Serena and I. She’s straight for starters.”

“How do you know that, Bernie? Have you asked her?”

“Of course I haven’t asked her,” Bernie scoffed, “but she was married and has a daughter.”

 

Bernie had to move the phone a few inches away from her ear, Kathryn’s laughter being painfully loud.

“Really? That’s the evidence you place before me of Serena’s supposed heterosexuality? May I remind you that you yourself are both a divorcée with two children  _ and  _ a massive lesbian?” Katie managed, once she had regained her composure.

Bernie could just picture Katie shaking her head pityingly.

“Well yes, I know that, but-”

“But nothing, Berenice Wolfe. Please go into this with an open mind. I can tell you’re attracted to her, but at least give  _ friendship _ a chance. Don’t do your usual thing of going all introverted and hiding yourself away.”

“The trouble is that I keeping going all… Well, I suppose it’s more of my, what was it you called it again? My lesbian disaster zone behaviour? Katie, I’m just a flustered mess around her.” Bernie ran her free hand through her hair, frustrated with her inability to string two coherent words together in front of Serena unless there was something medical involved.

“The term is useless lesbian. However, practice makes perfect, Bernie my dear. The more time you spend around her, the easier it will get. Like immersion therapy.”

Bernie went on to explain about the cab rides and drinks and so on that she had found herself agreeing to.

“There you go then, love. All that extra time spent together outside of work is bound to help. Plus it gives you the chance to see if you can detect any gay vibes emanating from the fragrant Ms Campbell.”

“Katie!” Bernie growled out in a warning tone.

“Okay, okay. Just have some fun and try to relax. For me, please? You know I worry about how isolated you’ve become since Marcus bloody Piper poisoned the kids’ minds.”

“I will try, Katie. That’s about the best I can promise.”

“That’s good enough for me. I’ll give you a ring on Thursday evening to see how it all went. Take care, Bernie. Love you.”

“Love you too, Katie. Night night.”

 

Bernie put her phone back on the table. She needed another drink after that. The rate she was going through the Thistly Cross, another trip north of the border would be required sooner rather than later!


	4. Chapter 4

Bernie was prowling around AAU. She didn’t _want_ to hope that the red phone would ring, thus potentially preventing her attending massage class. That would mean she was actively wishing someone serious injury. She just wouldn’t be averse to the idea of being unavoidably detained that evening. She couldn’t even get her admin done. Well, she could, _technically._ However, with Serena currently at her desk compiling the seemingly endless stream of reports required by the NHS, it was better that she kept her distance. This evening was going to be difficult enough, without additional time spent mooning over Serena Campbell.

 A phone rang. Bernie span around, but no, it was just the standard phone on the nurses’ station. It could still be something worthy of staying late for though, I’m more than willing to make that sacrifice, Bernie thought to herself. Donna Jackson hung up the phone and saw Bernie lingering by the desk.

 “We have a suspected appendicitis on the way up, Ms Wolfe. Nothing to keep you behind. I know how much you and Ms Campbell are looking forward to your evening class.”

 “Uh, that’s good. Mr di Lucca and Dr Digby will be able to handle it, I’m sure.” Bernie smiled weakly at Donna.

 Just then, Serena emerged from the office, bags and coats in hand.

 “Ah, Bernie! Come on, let’s go and get changed now before anything conspires to make us late. Our cab is due at half past, but I suggest we wait downstairs for it, to avoid getting dragged into anything on the ward.”

 Serena thrust Bernie’s coat and bag into her left hand and linked her arm through Bernie’s right. As they made their way towards the locker room, Bernie couldn’t help notice the warmth of Serena’s arm, and the smell of her light perfume. She also couldn’t help wonder how the hell she was going to get through the evening.

 “This is going to be so much fun, Bernie. Don’t you think?”

 “Oh, um, I’m sure it will be. At least we know that idiot man won’t be there. What was his name again? Bobby?”

 “Robbie the bobby. That’s what Kevin and I were calling him. I certainly hope he hasn’t tried to wangle his way into this class. If Barbara is running this one too, I’m sure she wouldn’t allow him back in. If he does show his face again, maybe you could remind him of your background. I’m sure that would help dissuade him.” Serena found herself half hoping that Robbie _would_ try his luck with the new class. She would love to see Bernie in action.

 “I do know thirteen different ways to kill a man with my bare hands. I can’t remember if I told him that last time,”

 Serena glanced at Bernie’s long and dexterous surgeon’s fingers. As far as she was concerned, they looked far more like the hands of a lover than a fighter. She felt herself redden at the mental images that immediately began flashing through her mind. Behave yourself, Campbell, she told herself sternly.

 

Bernie, meanwhile, was trying not to stare at Serena as she changed out of her working outfit of a black, silky looking blouse, camisole and black trousers. She couldn’t help but notice the luxurious looking cream coloured satin and lace underwear Serena was wearing. They seemed particularly indulgent, as they disappeared under soft grey cotton yoga pants and a white t-shirt. Bernie felt embarrassed as she removed her navy scrubs to reveal once-white knickers with the elastic unravelling, and the so-called flesh-toned bra (that was the colour of no flesh that Bernie had ever seen). Little did she know that all Serena was really noticing, was smooth pale skin, a toned body and long, long legs.

 “My god, have you had open heart surgery, Bernie?” Serena had finally torn her eyes away from seemingly endless legs and noticed the scar running down the centre of her colleague’s sternum.

 “Oh, er yes. About eighteen months ago. I um… I had a little trouble with a roadside IED back in Afghanistan. My driver didn’t see it ‘til the last second, swerved to avoid the explosion, rolled and ended upside down in a poppy field. It left me with an unstable C5/C6 fracture and a traumatised cervical disc. If that wasn’t enough, I also had a right ventricular pseudoaneurysm. The whole thing is what ended my career with the RAMC. They flew me back to the UK to put me back together and that was that.” Bernie pulled on her shirt, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious.

 “Goodness me, you must be practically superhuman to have got back to full strength so quickly, Bernie!” Serena shook her head in amazement.

 Bernie just shrugged, “I’ve always been a fast healer.”

 “Was the Army so impatient that they wouldn’t give you the chance to recover before writing you off? That seems incredibly unfair.” Serena was indignant on Bernie’s behalf, whilst at the same time being secretly delighted that the RAMC’s loss was her gain. Professionally speaking _of course!_

 “Oh no, I chose not to take up their offer of another full commission. I decided that trying to make a go of my marriage was more important.” Bernie bent to pull on her boots and to avoid looking at Serena.

 “Given that you mentioned you’re divorced, that clearly didn’t work out.” Serena probed, gently.

 “Not in the slightest.” Bernie gave a humourless laugh, “Someone finally coming to terms with the fact they're gay at the age of fifty isn’t too compatible with a happy marriage.”

 Serena was _dying_ to ask which of them had the later in life coming out, but she could see Bernie withdrawing, clearly already regretting saying as much as she had.

 “Both the Army, and your ex-husband’s loss is very much my, I mean _our_ gain. Anyway, come on Wonder Woman, let's get ourselves downstairs and wait for that cab, shall we?” Serena tucked her arm through Bernie’s once more and they headed towards the lift.

 

As it was a pleasant, warm evening, they sat outside on the bench by the hospital entrance. The smell of coffee from Pulses kept wafting invitingly through the doorway as the automatic doors slid open and shut. They both knew that caffeine before a massage wasn’t advisable, so it was mild torture for the two hardened coffee addicts. Bernie also desperately wanted a cigarette but was determined this time that she wasn’t going to fail at quitting. It had been several days since her last fag, and in general, she wasn’t doing badly. The current combination of Serena sitting close beside her and the prospect of the evening ahead was seriously putting her resolve to the test. A few puffs would surely help calm the nerves.

 “Bernie? Have you been listening to a word I’ve been saying?” Serena asked, rather impatiently.

 “Mmmm? Oh sorry, Serena. I was miles away.” Bernie went for a half-truth, “I er, I gave up the cigarettes a few days ago, and this bench was a favourite spot for a smoke during my first couple of weeks here. I think it’s bringing on a bit of a craving.”

 “You should have said, we could easily have waited somewhere else,” Serena said,  laying a comforting hand on Bernie’s thigh.

 Bernie barely suppressed a squeak, covering it with a cough at the last moment.

 “Hmmf, well it’s okay. I just need to exercise some willpower and self-control, that’s all.” Bernie wasn’t merely talking about the battle against nicotine addiction.

  


**Group chat: Kev &Paul&Serena**

 

**Serena** **Campbell** _: We’re just waiting for our cab._  

**Serena** **Campbell** _: Two revelations…_

  **Serena** **Campbell** _: One, Bernie was blown up by a bomb in Afghanistan! Had life-saving surgery only 18 months ago._

  **Paul** **Michaels** _: *gasp* Is Bernie the Bionic Woman?_

  **Serena** **Campbell** _: Two, Bernie’s marriage failed due to a gay revelation at the age of 50! I couldn’t really ask if it was her or the ex though. We shall have to see if your gaydar is still in full working order, Kev._

  **Kevin** **Barker** _: My money is 100% on Bernie being the mid-life lesbian and the ex-husband being Straighty McStraightface. My gaydar never fails, Serena. Trust me._

 


	5. Chapter 5

Somehow, Bernie thought, they had managed to hire the smallest cab in Holby. Or at least that is how it felt during the ride between the hospital and the Town Hall where the classes were held. She had climbed into the back, with the intention of leaving the front passenger seat for Serena. Serena had other ideas and got into the back as well. The twenty-minute journey, pressed shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh was doing nothing to help her tendency to become tongue-tied around Serena.

On the other hand, it did seem to suggest that Serena really wasn’t bothered by Bernie coming out to her in the locker room earlier. Bernie was still very new to the business of coming out to people and wondered if it would ever get any easier. Her first experiences had been mixed, to say the least. Katie had been nothing but loving and supportive. Marcus had been cruel, vicious and petty, and had turned her children against her. Since then she avoided the subject. Well, it would probably be more accurate to say she just actively avoided people unless it was in a professional capacity. Dinner with Serena, Kevin and Paul was the most social she had been in months. She had barely even seen Katie recently, thanks to the top-secret celebrity divorce case Katie was currently thrashing out.

 

“You’ve gone very quiet Bernie. Are you okay?” Serena asked, laying a hand on Bernie’s knee.

“Oh, um yes. I was uh, I was just thinking about what we learned on the last course.”

Serena made a little amused sound.

“If you had told me that I would enjoy something like this before the first course, I would have declared you completely deluded. Siân had to practically drag me kicking and screaming to the first session in fact. She would be so smug if she knew I had not only completed the first set of classes but then actually signed up for the next.”

Bernie’s glance dropped briefly to the hand still resting on her knee and was so distracted she nearly blurted out the truth about Katie asking her to carry on going to the previous class on her behalf. Not to learn second-hand about massage when she herself couldn’t attend as she has initially claimed, but because she had noticed Serena and thought her perfect for Bernie.

“I um, find it a little bit difficult. I’m not naturally a very tactile person. When Katie had to start spending so much time in London and couldn’t carry on with class, I was dreading having to be paired up with strangers. She asked me to carry on though, so…”

Serena gave Bernie’s knee a squeeze, “At least you don’t need to worry about that, now we’re going to be there together. Ah, here we are.” she exclaimed, as the taxi pulled up outside the impressive facade of Holby Town Hall.

Bernie instantly missed the warmth of Serena’s hand as she removed it to undo her seatbelt. It was almost immediately replaced by the warmth of Serena yet again linking arms, after exiting the cab to walk into the building.

 

“So… so you want to be massage partners? I wasn’t… I didn’t want to assume…”  Bernie trailed off.

“Oh, of course I do. After a couple of our experiences last time, I think we’re definitely better off together, don’t you agree? I’m sure we can always switch things up a bit and swap with Paul and Kev one week if you’d prefer to work with a male partner.”

“I’m not too bothered about that. The male partner part I mean. Whatever you think is best though, Serena.” Bernie was rather conflicted. Being partnered with Serena, she could be sure neither she nor Serena would be paired up with a handsy creep like last time. However, it also meant she had to cope with touching a semi-naked Serena. Being touched by Serena. Preferably all without spontaneously combusting, or making a total fool of herself.

“Are you going to disappear during the break, like you always did on the previous course?” As soon as the question left her mouth, Serena could have kicked herself. Great going, Campbell. Make it obvious you were watching her.

Luckily, Bernie didn’t seem to think it an odd question.

“As long as I can stick to my guns and stay off the fags, I won’t be disappearing. There’ll be no need to brave the weather for a nicotine fix.”

 

They reached the hall where the class would be held each week and pushed through the double doors. There was a table set up by the door and they were greeted by Kaz, the massage class instructor. It was a shame that Barbara wasn’t going to be teaching this class, but Kaz seemed very nice. They filled out the necessary forms and paid the course fee and then moved into the large room. Serena spotted Kevin and tugged Bernie across the room towards him.

“Good evening, love. No Paul yet?” Serena stood on tiptoes to give Kev a kiss hello.

“Serena, you’re looking wonderful, as usual. Bernie, lovely to see you again. Paul is on his way and should be here any minute now. I told him he’d better not be late, even if he has to break the rules and have a police car bring him at high speed, using the blues and twos! My theory is, what is the point in being a senior police officer if you can’t make use of the perks every now and then?”

“I’m not so sure. By that philosophy, Bernie and I should think nothing of performing a bit of out of hours surgery on friends or colleagues. Nose job? Sure, just nip by and I’ll shave a bit off your hooter!” Serena quipped.

She was unprepared for the extraordinary sound that immediately emerged from her new friend and colleague. She had never heard a laugh quite like it.

Kev bent and whispered in Serena’s ear, “If that’s her laugh, can you imagine what her sex noises are like?” then gave a pained chuckle as Serena elbowed him in the ribs.

 

The double doors opened, and the three of them looked over to see if Paul had arrived. A shock of bright orange hair told them that no, it was Dusty Foulds, who had clearly also decided on attending the new course. She appeared to have someone with her this time though. A tall, sandy-haired man of about 40 years old was standing next to her.

“Ah, the force of nature that is Dusty. I wonder if that’s Neville? He looks strangely familiar.” Kevin said, frowning. “I can’t quite place where I might know him from though.”

“He does rather look like an accountant called Neville. Maybe it’s the amount of beige he’s wearing.”

Serena looked at Bernie, “So you aren’t regretting not making use of the phone number Dusty gave you?”

Bernie snorted.

“Hardly. Like I told you before, he’s really not my cuppa.”

“Oh? He’s too bland for you, Ms Wolfe? You prefer someone a little more colourful?” Serena raised an eyebrow at her friend.

Bernie immediately pictured the selection of vibrant blouses Serena wore at the hospital.

“It isn’t so much the lack of colour. More about, well about what I told you earlier. About the reason for my divorce.” Bernie blushed and shuffled her feet.

“Ah, of course. Wrong flavour.” Serena dropped a brief wink and gave Bernie a reassuring rub between her shoulder blades.

 

 

**Group chat: Kev &Paul&Serena.**

 

 **Kevin** **Barker** _:_ _Yes! My gaydar maintains its 100% success rate. Major Wolfe definitely bats for the girl’s team._

 **Kevin** **Barker** _: Are you going to be much longer? I think we’re starting any minute._

 **Paul** **Michaels** _: I’ll be with you in two ticks. Just pulling up outside now._

 **Paul** **Michaels** : _And YAY for Bernie! Or rather, yay for Serena… ;)_


	6. Chapter 6

Paul finally came through the door with a few minutes to spare. Kev had taken the precaution of filling out his forms and paying his fee too, so all he needed to do was sign on the dotted line. 

He hugged Serena and murmured in her ear, “I hear the Wolfe definitely bats for the correct team, Serena. Full steam ahead, eh?”

“Oh hush you, she’ll hear!” Serena muttered back.

“So I see that Dusty is here. Unless of course there are two women of a certain age in Holby with bright orange hair.” Paul said loud enough for Bernie and Kev to hear.

“Yes, and we think that might be her son Neville with her. The vision in beige sitting next to her. I’m sure I recognise him, but I can’t think where from. Does he seem familiar to you, babe?” Kevin asked his husband.

Paul discreetly looked across at the man sitting next to Dusty and frowned. In his line of work, a good memory for faces was very important, and Paul’s was exceptional. He couldn’t quite place the man across the room, but it would come to him. In fact...

“Oh wow, I know! Kev, try and picture him in skin tight jeans and a muscle vest. Billy’s 30th last month, at the ever classy Rainbowz? He was all over Phil.”

“Oh. My. God! You’re right! Dusty was doubly barking up the wrong tree in trying to set him up with Bernie.”

Bernie looked across at Kevin, wide-eyed with shock.

“I have an exquisitely tuned gaydar, Bernie love. I’m not wrong, am I?”

Looking rather like a deer in the headlights, all Bernie could do was shake her head.

“There you go. Another letter to add into the mix.”

Serena and Bernie both looked blankly at Kev.

“You, Bernie are the L, Paul and I are both Gs of course and Serena is the B. Sorry, sorry, Serena doesn’t like labels.” Kev said, with an eye roll when he saw her begin to protest.

“I...I don’t… I’m not… It’s…” Bernie felt like her brain was misfiring. It was one thing to quietly come out to her new co-worker, but to have people just guessing out of the blue?

“Come on you two, stop scaring our friend. Let’s find some seats, shall we. I think we might finally be about to begin.” Serena tucked her arm around Bernie’s waist and guided her towards a row of empty chairs.

Looking at the figure next to her, Serena could tell Bernie had withdrawn, her face blank and pale. She leaned across and poked Kev in the ribs.

“Will you please occasionally think before you speak? Outing people is  **not** a nice thing to do,” she whispered fiercely.

“You didn’t want Bernie to know you’re bi?” He rolled his eyes, “Or rather, that you’re a label-less woman who happens to have supped at the furry cup?” he hissed back.

“I’m not talking about me, you silly bugger. Think about it. Not everyone is so happily out and proud, you know.”

Kevin looked past Serena to Bernie who was still pale and staring into space.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Shall I…?” he shrugged, not knowing what he could do to try and make things right.

“Leave it with me, I’ll talk to her.” 

Serena shuffled her chair as close to Bernie’s as it would go. She took Bernie’s cold, clenched hand in hers and tried to rub a little warmth back into it. Tucking an unruly lock of blonde hair behind Bernie’s ear, Serena then gently cupped Bernie’s cheek.

“Bernie? Bernie darling, the class is about to begin. Are you okay?” Serena was pleased to see a bloom of colour returning to Bernie’s face.

“S-Serena. I’m okay. I...I just…” her face felt like it was burning where Serena’s hand was resting.

Serena was unable to resist one more stroke of Bernie’s cheekbone with her thumb, before she returned her hand to Bernie’s.

“Come on, let’s pay attention. We don’t want to start the new classes without a clue what’s going on.”

Bernie tried valiantly to listen to what Kaz was saying, but her hand was resting on Serena’s thigh, being held between Serena’s warm hands, slightly rough from years of scrubbing for surgery. The sensitive skin of her inner wrist was being occasionally gently stroked by Serena’s thumb.

In truth, Serena wasn’t exactly being the most attentive student either. Her mind was otherwise occupied with how soft Bernie’s hair felt when she had tucked it behind Bernie’s ear, how delicate the thin skin of Bernie’s wrist felt. How, even though she was holding Bernie’s hand in an attempt to comfort, Serena couldn’t help but feel just a little bit turned on.

 

Soon it was time for the class to put Kaz’s words into practise. Serena couldn’t help but grin as she saw Dusty Foulds make a beeline for Paul, with Neville trailing in her wake.

“It looks like Dusty is more interested in finding new people to chat with tonight, than finding love for Neville.” Serena said, with an amused snort.

They both watched as Dusty tucked her arm into the crook of Paul’s elbow and lead him towards a vacant massage area. Neville looked at Kev, they both shrugged and found their own table.

Serena used their still clasped hands to lead Bernie to a massage area of their own.

 

“Come on Bernie. You hop on the table first today. I think you’re far more in need of some relaxation, don’t you?” 

Serena gently chivvied Bernie behind the screen to disrobe. She wasn’t entirely sure she had grasped what they were meant to be doing that evening, but if nothing else she could try and help relieve some of the tension she could see in her new friend. Serena realised that she  _ did _ see Bernie as a friend, not just a colleague. Post class drinks and weekend get togethers weren’t just about trying to find out more about her reticent new co-lead. The fact that she also found Bernie wildly attractive was completely incidental.

Bernie emerged from behind the screen, wrapped in a towel. Serena couldn’t help but feast her eyes on Bernie’s stunning clavicles. She dragged her gaze away and patted the massage table.

“Come on Ms Wolfe, hop on. Let me see if I can get some of those muscles unknotted, eh?”

 

As she worked on the tense shoulders beneath her fingers, Serena talked softly to Bernie. About how Kevin hadn’t meant to upset her with his careless comment earlier. How Kevin had been out and proud since his earliest days of high school. How he didn’t really understand the shock to the system that it could be, to have a later in life revelation about one’s sexuality. 

“I was in my 30s, having just divorced my unfaithful arse of a husband. I was on a secondment to the Royal in London and staying in hospital accommodation in Stepney. I ended up in a brief but incredibly intense relationship with a paediatrician who was over from India. She was coming to the end of a year’s training at the Royal. She went back to Jaipur, I returned to my base hospital, and that was that. It made me finally realise I had always been attracted to women as well as men.”

Serena was pleased to feel Bernie become less and less tense as she worked her way around the muscles of her friend’s back.

“H..how did it make you feel, discovering that about yourself?” Bernie asked, tentatively.

“It was a bit of a surprise, that’s for sure. It did make better sense of a couple of things from my teen years. How intensely I liked a couple of TV actresses for example. Crushes on a couple of teachers that in hindsight were clearly more than just a liking for the subjects they taught. I haven’t been in a relationship with a woman since then, but not through conscious choice. There was a consultant at Holby that I used to flirt with unmercifully, but it never went anywhere.”

“I see.” Bernie replied and then fell silent, apart from an occasional stifled groan as Serena worked on a particularly stubborn knot.

 

Soon, even that had stopped. Kaz called out that it was time for a break and as Serena wiped the oil off her hands, she realised Bernie hadn’t moved. Crouching to look at her face, Serena realised Bernie was fast asleep. She looked so serene and relaxed. So beautiful. Serena gently brushed the hair back from Bernie’s face and pressed a light kiss to her temple. Standing, she covered Bernie’s back with a towel, and went in search of the boys. 


	7. Chapter 7

Serena found Paul and Kevin sitting together drinking fruit juice. She was pleased to see there was no sign of Dusty or Neville. She wanted to talk to the boys alone.

“Serena! Where’s Bernie got to? She hasn’t left, has she?” Kev looked worried. “Please don’t say she was so freaked out that she went home.”

“She fell asleep right at the end of the massage, so I’ve left her to it for now. However, I think the only reason she didn’t bolt for the door earlier was that she was in shock. I think the three of us rather lost sight of the fact that she isn’t just some intriguing stranger across the classroom anymore. She’s my colleague and our friend. I also think she’s still struggling to come to terms with her sexuality and she’s coming out of the other side of a very messy divorce.” 

Kevin and Paul both looked very sheepish.

“You’re quite right Serena. She isn’t a mysterious P.I or a spy. She’s Bernie, and it’s time to stop all the speculation and to just wait until she’s ready to share whatever she’s comfortable sharing.” Paul looked at his downcast husband, “Oh come on love, I’m sure she’ll forgive you, don’t you think, Serena?”

“I tried to explain to her that you’re not usually quite such a bull in a china shop, in spite of appearances tonight. Also that you can actually be quite sensitive when you want to.” Serena winked at Kevin, to soften her words.

“Look, drinks are on me in the pub later, and I’ll apologise properly to her as well. She is still coming for drinks afterwards, isn’t she?” he added anxiously.

“I don’t know, but I hope so. She’s clearly calmed down enough to fall asleep on the massage table, so maybe that’s a good sign.” Serena looked across the room, where Bernie was clearly still snoozing. “I should go and wake her up, the break will be over soon.” 

“Awaken the sleeping beauty with a kiss, eh?” Kevin didn’t stay down for long.

Serena thought about the kiss on the temple she had given Bernie and couldn’t help but blush. 

“Serena Campbell, you really do like her, don’t you?” Paul leant forward and put a hand on her knee. “And I don’t mean in just a friends and colleagues way. Are you falling for her?”

“I think I might be. Look at her. Beautiful, witty, fiercely intelligent and my equal in theatre too. I could be in big trouble here boys, if I’m not careful. Big, big trouble.”

At that, Serena stood and went over to the refreshments table where she grabbed two bottles of water. Bernie would need to rehydrate after the massage. 

 

Bernie was dreaming about Serena again. ‘Bernie, darling.’ If only she could hear those words in real life. She gave a little grunt of displeasure. This mattress was meant to be a firm orthopaedic one, but it felt so bloody hard this morning. 

“Bernie, you need to wake up.”

Her eyes flew open and looked straight into the warm gaze of Serena Campbell. She went to roll over, only to have Serena’s hands immediately grasp her by the shoulders.

“Woah, not so fast. You’re on a narrow table, remember?” Serena could see the confusion in Bernie’s eyes. “You dropped off at the end of the massage. I thought you must have been in need of the rest, so I left you. Break is nearly over though, and you should really have a drink.”

Bernie gingerly turned over and sat up. She was hyper-aware that she was naked from the waist up, save for a towel clutched to her chest. 

“I..er.. I’d better…” she slid off the table and went behind the screen to get her top back on. It was hard enough facing Serena at the best of times, always so poised even in casual massage class gear. But facing her half asleep and half dressed? A sure fire recipe for disaster. The last thing she needed was Serena realising quite how big a crush she had.

She took a deep breath and emerged from behind the privacy screen. 

“Uh, sorry about falling asleep on you like that.” Bernie accepted the bottle of water Serena was holding out to her.

“Oh don’t worry, darling. I took it as a compliment to my massage skills.”

Bernie was glad she had swallowed her mouthful of water, otherwise she might have choked. Serena calling her darling. It sounded every bit as sexy as she had imagined. She had a minute or two of respite as Serena disappeared behind the screen to get ready for her turn on the table. Or rather she would have had some respite, had her fevered imagination not immediately started picturing Serena removing her t-shirt to reveal that gorgeous underwear Bernie had seen earlier. 

“Stop it!” Bernie muttered to herself, and gulped down the rest of her water in a futile attempt to cool off.

“Okay, I’m all yours, Bernie.”

She span around, to see Serena stretched out on the massage table. Tried not to stare at the swell of Serena’s breasts pressed against the padded surface. Or the gentle curve of her waist. Or her beautiful face.

“I um, I didn’t really take in anything Kaz was saying earlier, Serena. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Bernie. I’ll confess I wasn’t listening too hard myself. I think we’ve wasted this week somewhat. Just do what I did, and use what we learnt in the other classes. We can ask the boys later in the pub if we missed anything vital. You… you are still coming to the pub with us, aren’t you?” 

Serena looked up at Bernie with those beautiful brown eyes, and as usual, Bernie just couldn’t say no.

“I’m not sure…” she tried.

“Oh come on, Bernie. The drinks are on Kevin, as he tries to make some amends for acting like an insensitive arse earlier. My words not his, by the way.” Serena smirked at Bernie and gave her an almost imperceptible wink. “Come on, get those talented surgeon’s hands into action, Major!”

Bernie tentatively began to massage Serena’s shoulders. She tried to ignore Serena’s occasional hum of pleasure and what those sounds were doing to her. 

“Uh, what you told me earlier. About your relationship. I er, I appreciate you sharing it with me. I don’t find it very easy to talk about very personal things, and about this in particular.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it Bernie, of course you don’t, but if you do want to, I’m here to listen.” Serena felt the hands on her shoulders stutter to a stop for a few moments, then begin again.

“No, I..I want to. I was married to Marcus for just over 25 years, and he was a good husband. Solid and reliable. He never complained about taking on all the extra responsibility for the kids, when I was deployed overseas. I had always thought that the portrayal of romantic relationships, in fiction and on screen, was a gross exaggeration. The grand passions, stormy fights followed by the frantic making up. Our relationship was gentle, peaceful even. I was never a great fan of the er, the physical side of things. You know, um, sex. It was another thing I assumed that was either exaggerated or that there was just something a bit… damaged maybe, in me.”

Serena winced at the sadness in Bernie’s voice. She was desperate to try and offer some words of comfort, but felt sure if she interrupted the monologue, that Bernie would clam up. 

“Katie, my best friend, always said he wasn’t good enough for me, which was unfair. She called him Marcus Piper because she said he was a potato of a man.” Bernie could feel Serena twitch with suppressed laughter. “Called him it to his face too, which never went down well.”

They both had a little laugh at that. Somehow it helped Bernie to relax and she found the words start to flow more easily.

“Most of the British troops had been pulled out of Afghanistan. I was part of a team sent to train medics in Kabul. I became very friendly with one of the anaesthetists in the team. Alex was so easy to talk to. You may have noticed this, but I’m not the most open of people in general. I find it quite difficult to talk about myself. Somehow Alex broke down those walls. I told her things I’m not sure I had even talked to Katie about, and Katie’s my oldest and closest friend. It was Alex who eventually pointed out that my relationship with Marcus sounded far more like a platonic one, that there seemed to be no spark of passion or desire. I was quite angry with her. Alex… well I won’t say she had it easy, but she never had any doubts about herself or her… her sexuality. Joined up after the end of decriminalisation in the military, has a lovely wife, the support of her family. Whereas I went down the path of heteronormativity. Alex taught me that word, by the way. Was in complete denial of my attraction to women and lack of attraction to men. Marcus and I were good friends, and that’s all it should have ever been. I didn’t take it too well when she spelled all of that out to me. We fell out rather badly over it in fact. Then the roadside IED intervened and I was flown back to the UK. God knows who I was trying to prove a point to, but I turned down a 10 year full commission to stay and work on my marriage. Huh. It took less than a month after being released from hospital to see what a huge mistake I’d made. The kids were both gone, Cameron in London training as a medic, Charlotte at university in Cambridge. There was just Marcus and I, left alone in that big house. I asked him for a divorce, told him I had changed too much and that it just wasn’t working. It was all going along very amicably too. Until he read a letter Alex sent me. Alex and I hadn’t resolved our differences before the accident when I was flown back to the UK. She wrote me a long letter apologising for upsetting me, and offering me her support. He went mad, turned the kids against me, telling them I had been having multiple affairs and god knows what else while I was deployed. He tried to take me for every penny I had too. Luckily Katie took care of that side of things. He forgot that my best friend in the world is also the best divorce lawyer in the country.”

“What a complete and utter cock!” Serena could stay silent no longer. She carefully turned over and sat up. 

“That’s what Katie said. Amongst other choice phrases.” Bernie gave her a tired smile. 

“Bernie darling, just let me get my kit back on and then Kevin is buying you the largest glass of whatever it is you want to drink. Tonight Ms Wolfe, we are getting pissed!”


	8. Chapter 8

After Serena re-dressed and she and Bernie had gathered their belongings, they looked about for Paul and Kevin. They spotted Paul. Dusty Foulds was on her tiptoes, giving him a hug and a big smacker of a kiss. Kev was in the middle of what looked like a rather intense discussion with Neville. 

“It looks like Paul made a good impression on Dusty if that kiss was anything to go by.” Serena huffed in amusement. “It seems surprising that Neville doesn’t seem to have come out to his mother when it certainly doesn’t seem as though she would have a problem with him being gay or bisexual.”

“Um, maybe she’s a ‘nimby’. You know, not in my back yard. Accepting if it’s someone else’s child, but not her own. Or... or maybe he’s just too scared to tell her.”

Serena tucked her arm through Bernie’s, and patted her hand. 

“It could well be. Who knows what goes on behind closed doors, eh? I’m sure most people have their own challenges where coming out is concerned, one way or another.”

They watched on as Dusty approached Neville and Kev, and apparently chivvied Neville to finish his conversation. Neville shook Kev’s hand, Dusty patted Kev affectionately on the cheek, then she and Neville left, with Dusty talking ten to the dozen the whole time.

“Dusty likes to talk.” Bernie said.

“Does she ever!” Paul had joined them. He flung an arm around his husband’s shoulder as he approached and drew him in for a quick kiss. “So how was-”

“No!” Serena intervened, holding up an imperious hand, “No more chat until Bernie has an obscenely large glass of her favourite tipple in front of her and I have an equally large Shiraz in front of me. Lead the way Mr Barker, and I sincerely hope you have your wallet handy.”

 

10 minutes later, they were settled in a comfortable booth in the very nice pub opposite the Town Hall. Bernie had taken pity on Kevin and decided to share a bottle of Shiraz with Serena. Serena had _not_ taken pity on him and chose the best bottle they had on their wine list. 

“I could have been really evil, Kev, and gone for a very large single malt. Looking at the selection they have behind the bar, I suspect that would have set you back about the same amount as the bottle of Shiraz did, for my drink alone.” Bernie said, after taking her first sip of wine.

Serena leaned forward, “So I think you should try and bear that in mind next time your foot is hovering too close to your mouth, Kevin Barker.” 

“I am so sorry for upsetting you earlier, Bernie. I just didn’t think. You would think I would be more sensitive. I have enough kids at school who are questioning their sexuality and come to talk to me about it. I seem to be the go-to on the staff for the baby gays. It’s just that you activated my gaydar so strongly, I completely failed to consider that you mightn’t be out and proud or whatever.” Kev reached across the table and took Bernie’s hand, “Am I forgiven?”

“It was just a bit of a shock to the system, really. As I told Serena, I’ve had mixed reactions. My oldest friend Katie was amazing, and took it totally in her stride. My now ex-husband on the other hand, acted as thought I had committed a crime. Almost as though I did it to spite him.” Bernie laughed bitterly, and patted Kev’s hand, awkwardly. “It just shocked me, to have something you’ve only known about yourself for a relatively short while, pointed out to you by someone who barely knows you. I hadn’t realised I was apparently so transparent.”

“Don’t mind my husband, Bernie. Almost everyone pings his supposedly legendarily sensitive gaydar.” Paul sighed, “As far as Kev is concerned, almost everyone is gay.”

“Well… well, they should be. Everyone would be so much happier if the world went gay!”

“Talking of which… Did Neville recognise you from the nightclub, or whatever it was, Kev?” asked Serena.

“Rainbowz? Oh god, we absolutely _have_ to take you both there for a night out, it is SO tacky, but so good! If you like to dance to cheesy pop, it’s great fun. Anyway, yes, he did recognise me and ever so slightly freaked out. He calmed down once I assured him that I wouldn’t dream of outing him to his mother.” At this, Kevin gave Bernie a sheepish smile, and she just rolled her eyes.

“I just don’t think that Dusty would mind. She was telling me tonight that she’s been to every single Holby Pride since it began as a tiny event twenty-odd years ago. That doesn’t sound to me like a mother who would be upset at having a gay son. Last year, apparently she even rode pillion with the Dykes on Bikes lot!” said Paul.

“I can just imagine Dusty, clutching on to a leather-clad butch, and loving every minute! In fact, my, ahem, my ‘legendarily sensitive’ gaydar tells me that she has almost certainly dabbled in relationships with women in the past. Did you get that vibe from her, Bernie?”

Bernie stared at Kev. “Erm, I have absolutely no idea. I just listened to her talk about her late husbands and her cats. And tried to put her off the idea of setting me up with her son.” 

Paul laughed. “Dusty told me about that, actually. She… Umm, well she noticed Serena holding your hand and said she now realised she had clearly been wasting her time on that score.” 

Paul held his breath, hoping it wouldn’t upset Bernie that someone else that evening had made the assumption she wasn’t straight. He wasn’t prepared for the loud bark of laughter that emerged from the woman. 

“Straight, gay or otherwise, I wouldn’t have been interested in Neville. In the highly unlikely event of me entering into a relationship, I think it would have to be with someone of around my own age.”

Bernie missed the significant looks passing between Paul and Kevin, and the eyebrows being wiggled at Serena. She also missed the swift kicks administered under the table by her colleague.

“You were saying the same to me just the other day, weren’t you Serena? That you’re definitely looking for a woman of your own age.” Kevin had a devilish grin on his face, and ignored the daggers Serena glared back at him.

“So, did you tell Neville that you thought his mother would be accepting of his sexuality?” Serena pointedly ignored Kev’s previous comment.

“I did. In fact I even suggested that they could join us here in the pub after class one week and he could come out to her with us there for support.” Kevin shrugged, “I think I’ve given him some food for thought at least. He said he’s going to add Paul and I as Facebook friends tonight, so I suspect we might soon be becoming his coming out coaches.”

“I think the only possible fly in the ointment with Dusty might be her burning desire to become a grandmother. She seemed almost as eager for Nev to knock someone up, as to see him in a relationship. That was another thing she mentioned in regard to you, B. That in hindsight, as beautiful as you are, grandbabies probably wouldn’t have been an option.”

Bernie blushed at being referred to as beautiful, then snorted. “Umm, while that particular ship hasn’t technically _entirely_ sailed yet, the thought of having another baby at the age of 52? Good god no!” 

“She asked if you and I were planning on having kids, Kev. I explained that as a teacher, you’re surrounded by more than enough of other people’s children on a daily basis. And that as a copper, I’ve seen far too much of the darker side of life, to want to bring kids into the world.” 

Kevin slapped his husband playfully on the shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Paul. Way to bring down the mood! Come on, it’s your round. Mine’s another pint, Serena will have the over-priced Shiraz. More wine for you, B? Or are you moving on to the over-priced whisky now?” 

“Oh, I’ll stick with wine thanks.” Bernie had never had anyone call her B before, and she quite liked the sound of it. Just as long as they didn’t try calling her Bern. Marcus was forever calling her that for some reason, and she’d always absolutely fucking hated it!


	9. Chapter 9

Friday morning on AAU had been relatively peaceful so far, although neither of the co-leads had been silly enough to remark upon the fact. Serena was getting ahead of the game with her monthly reports, and Bernie had actually managed to complete some admin in between stolen glances across the desks. 

There was a knock at the door, Donna opened it and stuck her head round.

“We have a couple of people being sent up from the ED. One is a severe ankle dislocation with possible vascular compromise, and the other some kind of suspected rupture. They weren’t too clear on that one.” 

“Okay, thank you Donna, we’ll both be with you in a moment.” 

Bernie closed the folder she had been working on and stood, stretching to try and straighten her spine out, after a couple of hours behind a desk. She didn’t notice Serena staring, as her scrubs rode up, exposing the smooth, pale skin of her stomach. 

“Relieved to be getting a break from the paperwork, eh?”

“There’s certainly no denying that I prefer action to admin, Serena. I don’t know how you cope with the endless reports.”

Serena saved and closed the document she had been working in and stood.

“As well as medicine, I also have a business background, which I think helps. I did an MBA at Harvard.”

“Goodness me! I’m surprised you’re not sitting behind the CEO’s desk in place of Hanssen.”

Bernie opened the office door, and gestured Serena to precede her through. Serena loved how courteous Bernie always was.

“Oh, I did used to have ambitions in that direction. I was deputy CEO for quite a while, in fact. The board, in their infinite wisdom, never quite found me good enough and I got sick of it. I was good enough to do the donkey work, but not for the top job, so in the end I told them where to shove it. I haven’t regretted it for a single moment either. I get to concentrate so much more of my time on actual medicine.”

“You do have to prioritise what’s important for you.”

“It’s all about saving lives, making a difference. I love medicine and it deserves my precious time far more than the board of this hospital.”

“Good for you, Serena. Ah, here we are, it looks like our first patient has arrived.” 

They approached the trolley, containing a young woman who was gritting her teeth and obviously in significant pain. Donna had her notes from the ED.

“This is Rosie Johnson, 21 years old. She came in with a query right ankle dislocation after a trip and fall, which was confirmed with an X-ray. Rosie has had no pain relief so far, apart from Entonox. She has a weak pedal pulse, so ED were concerned about the vascular compromise and sent her up to the vascular expert. I’m sure clearing one of their own beds had nothing at all to do with it,” Donna snorted.

Serena huffed in amusement. 

“You’re such a cynic, Nurse Jackson. Bay three please.” 

Before they could get any further, the doors to AAU swung open again and another trolley was wheeled in. This patient was far less stoic, and was shouting loudly about being in agony.

“That mental fucking bitch! I’ll see her locked up for this! Aaaahhh, it hurts! Can’t you bloody do something?” 

“Oi, language mate. Calm it down,” Fletch told the red-faced man on the trolley. 

He turned to Serena and Bernie and gave them the run down from the notes.

“This is Robert Medcalf, 54. Brought into the ED with… Oooh, with severe scrotal bruising and a query testicular rupture.” Fletch winced in sympathy. “He has had 5mg of morphine and one gram of paracetamol I.V.” 

The patient on the trolley began shouting and swearing again. Serena and Bernie looked at the man and then at each other, with wide eyes. Serena stepped forward and addressed the florid, sweaty man in front of her.

“Mr Medcalf, I do realise that you’re in pain, but if you don’t moderate your language and lower your voice, I will have you removed from my ward. I have other patients, none of whom wish to be disturbed by your foul language. Do you understand?”

He nodded, and Serena turned to Fletch.

“Bay eight for Mr Medcalf, please, Mr Fletcher, and give him another 5mg of morphine. Thank you.”

Bernie meanwhile was trying not to show her reaction to the sound of Serena positively growling at Robbie Medcalf. She knew she would be replaying that sound over and over in her mind. Serena returned to Bernie’s side.

“So, how do we decide who gets the honour of treating Robbie the Bobby then, Serena?”

Serena thought for a moment and a mischievous smile bloomed on her face.

“I’ll arm wrestle you for it.”

“You’re having a laugh.”

Serena grinned. “Come on.”

Bernie looked over Serena’s shoulder.

“As much I would absolutely love to, Serena, believe me, I think I have a better idea,” she looked past her co-lead, “Good afternoon, Mr Di Lucca. We have a patient for you in bay eight. Serena and I will be in bay three should you need us, but we both think a male perspective is needed for Mr Medcalf.”

They both managed to keep a straight face until Raf had moved away, then allowed themselves a discreet high five.

“Nicely done Ms Wolfe. Now, shall we go and take a look at this ankle?”

 

They went across to bay three and introduced themselves to Rosie Johnson. Donna handed them a tablet which contained the X-rays that the ED had performed.

“This was from a simple trip and fall, Rosie?” Bernie asked the pale and sweaty young woman.

“Umm, yes. Uneven paving stones, you know.”

Bernie and Serena looked at each other. This was about as bad an ankle dislocation as either of them had seen. 

“I think we should run some tests, don’t you Ms Wolfe? Rosie is young and apparently physically fit, I wouldn’t ordinarily expect to see that kind of damage from tripping over a paving slab. I’m concerned there may be some underlying cause that has weakened the joint.”

Before Bernie could agree with Serena’s assessment, Rosie cleared the throat.

“Erm okay, I haven’t been entirely honest with you both. I don’t want to waste your time and NHS resources on unnecessary tests. I didn’t trip and fall…”

She went on to tell them about the true cause of her injury, and the events leading up to it.

“Earlier on today, I met up with a couple of friends for lunch and a couple of drinks in The Feathers, in town. After my mates had to rush off to catch a train, I stayed to finish off the bottle of red. This older bloke came and sat at my table, trying to chat me up. He was such a creepy git. I made it quite clear from the beginning that I wasn’t interested, but he would not take no for an answer. I even tried telling him I had a girlfriend, but that just seemed to make him worse. He kept trying to put his arm around me. I began to feel more and more uncomfortable, and so I abandoned the last of the Shiraz, and left the pub.”

“Even a good Shiraz isn’t worth being manhandled for. Go on, Rosie.” Serena gave the young woman an encouraging smile.

“What I didn’t realise was he had followed me outside. Next thing I knew, he grabbed my arm and pulled me up the alley that runs up the side of the pub. He pushed me against the wall and tried to kiss me. I managed to shove him off, but he went to grab hold of me again. So I kicked him. That’s how I did my ankle in.”

“We still wouldn’t expect to see such a severe injury from a kick either,” Bernie responded.

“Umm, well the thing is I did kick him quite hard. He’s lucky it’s hot and I was wearing trainers today. Most of the time I’m in Doc Martens. I was the top goal scorer in my women’s football league for the last two seasons and I got him square in the balls. I felt something pop in my ankle and suddenly I was in agony.”

Serena and Bernie looked at each other, then back at Rosie. 

“I managed to half hop, half hobble to a bench a little way down the road. I hoped he had finally got the message, but I wanted to put some distance between us. I realised I had done some serious damage to my foot, so I called an ambulance. I didn’t want to cause any trouble, so I just said I had tripped and twisted it. So, you see I really don’t think you need to bother with a load of tests. I don’t want to waste any more of your time.” 

“Let’s just pull the curtains for a bit of privacy, and we’d better have a bit of a chat. Donna, would you do the honours please?”

When between them, Serena and Bernie explained about the man who had just been brought on to the ward, and his suspected injuries, Rosie went even paler.

“I heard the shouting and swearing obviously, but I had no idea. I really did that much damage? Oh god, this is going to ruin everything. He said something about getting me locked up, didn’t he? If I get a criminal record, I’ll have no chance of becoming a paramedic. I have just thrown away my future.” Rosie hid her face in her hands and began to sob. 

Donna put a comforting arm around Rosie’s shoulder to try and comfort the distraught woman. “There must be something we can do to help. He did try to sexually assault her after all. We can’t let some lecherous old man ruin Rosie’s life,” she appealed to her bosses.

“Look, let’s get this ankle sorted out first. Donna, can you get me 10mg of morphine and 80 of ketamine. We’ll get you sedated, Rosie and get this foot popped back into place. Ms Wolfe and I will have a think in the meantime and see what we can come up with.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Bernie, I think I’ll just go and have a quick word with Raf while Donna gets the meds and we can begin the sedation. We do rather need to know just how bad an injury we’re dealing with where the other party is concerned.” Serena gave Rosie’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and disappeared back onto the ward.

“So, you’re going to train to become a paramedic? Good for you,” Bernie never really felt at ease with the small talk required for a good bedside manner, and she really wasn't good with crying, in particular. “I’m afraid this ankle will have you on the bench for a while, I hope your team will be able to cope without you,” she shuffled about awkwardly, wishing Rosie would stop crying.

“I… I left the team at the end of the season. It was an inter-university league, and I’ve just graduated.” Rosie seemed to be calming down a bit, much to Bernie’s relief.

Serena and Donna re-entered the curtained off area together, Donna with the necessary drugs, and Serena with a portable ultrasound. 

As Donna administered the pain relief and sedation, Serena and Bernie were deciding who would reduce the dislocated joint.

“Anyway, how do you want to proceed?” Serena asked.

“Oh, I’ll do it.”

“Why you?” Serena frowned.

“Well, I probably have the edge in that department.” Bernie shrugged.

“Oh, big macho Army medic are we? Go on then, flex your muscles for me, Major Wolfe,” Serena said, with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow. Oh, how she loved to see Bernie blush!

While the drugs were taking effect, Serena checked Rosie’s foot with the ultrasound and found that, yes there was a slightly compromised blood flow. As soon as Bernie reduced the dislocation, Serena would check again and hopefully they would be able to avoid surgery.

“So, I talked to Raf, and it seems things aren’t as bad as the ED feared. Obviously I can’t really tell you anything, Rosie, due to patient confidentiality, but suffice it to say, the injury to the other party is not as severe as it first appeared. Okay now Rosie, I want you to keep breathing deeply on the Entonox. Use it as much as you want. In a minute Bernie will pop that ankle right back in place for you. That’s it, good deep breaths.”

Rosie looked at Donna, who had again placed a supportive arm around her shoulder. She grinned blearily up at the nurse, having removed the mouthpiece of the Entonox.

“You are bloody beautiful, Nurse Donna. Will you sing me a song? Shall we sing one together? Weeeeee are the champions, my friend, and weeeee’ll keep on fighting til the end-”

“Okay, Rosie, that was lovely, but you need to keep breathing in the Entonox. Let’s save the karaoke until later on, shall we?” Donna smiled down at the would-be Freddie Mercury in the bed. 

“But you’re beautiful and I want to serenade you!” Rosie protested.

Donna gently, but firmly placed the mouthpiece between the young woman’s lips. 

“Shush now, and let Ms Wolfe sort out that foot, there’s a love.”

“I love you too, Nurse Donna. Will you marry me?” slurred Rosie, around the mouthful of plastic.

Ah, the interesting side effects that Ketamine had on some people!

 

Ten minutes later, Rosie’s ankle was back in place, and the blood supply to her foot was fully restored. Donna and Lou were left to place a plaster cast on the leg before it would then be X-rayed to double check the alignment. Serena and Bernie retreated to their office to discuss the situation. 

“Is there any way we can help Rosie? This could potentially ruin her life, Serena. If Robbie the bloody Bobby really wants to pursue this and she ends up with a criminal record, surely the paramedic training would be off the cards. I can’t imagine them taking on someone with a brand new assault conviction, can you?” Bernie was pacing up and down as best she could manage in the small office.

“Bernie, please sit down, you’re making me feel dizzy!” Serena pulled one of the green visitors chairs closer to her desk, and patted it. “Come on, sit.” 

Bernie slumped into the chair with a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry, Serena. It’s just she’s around the same sort of age as my kids, and… Oh, I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem fair. Defend yourself from a sleazy letch and ruin your career prospects. What was the damage, by the way? Not a rupture like the ED thought?”

“No sign of a rupture, but severe swelling and contusions. I believe the phrase Mr Di Lucca used was ‘like a purple space hopper’.”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment before they both burst out laughing.

It was a couple of minutes before either of them could speak coherently. They were both gasping for breath and wiping tears of laughter from their eyes.

“Oh god, I don’t think I can remember the last time I laughed quite that hard. I needed that. Look Bernie, I have an idea about how we can hopefully help get this whole situation resolved. How about you go and keep an eye on things out on the ward, while I make a phone call?”

“Can I go and inform that bastard in bay eight that I know thirteen different ways to kill him with my bare hands?” Bernie stood up, hands clenched into fists.

“No, Bernie, you can’t. I’m rather sure there’s something in the hospital employee handbook about not threatening the patients. I think you should avoid bay eight entirely and leave Raf to tend to Robbie the sleazy Bobby.” 

Serena gently chivvied Bernie out of the office and reached for her mobile.

“Paul, my angel. Are you terribly busy? I have an enormous favour to ask of you…”

**

Bernie opened her mouth to refuse, but before she could, Kev had topped up her wine glass yet again. During some conversation she hadn’t been privy to, it had apparently been decided that booze and takeaway night was to be held at Kevin and Paul’s place that week.

The thought that it would sooner or later be her turn to host made her nervous. Kev and Paul’s flat was totally different to Serena’s home, but equally attractive in its own way. They favoured a minimalist, modern design and a raft of gadgets. Bernie didn’t even have a table, or enough seats to accommodate three guests.

“So Serena called me and I went straight into action.” 

Paul was filling them in on his side of the events of the afternoon. It seemed that Sergeant Robbie Medcalf already had quite the reputation. In spite of Paul being based at a different police station, he had heard more than a few rumours. Things had fallen into place now he knew the surname of the man who had been so ‘hands on’ with both Bernie and Serena at the previous massage course. 

“I accessed footage from the CCTV cameras on the street outside The Feathers, which showed him following Rosie out of the pub, grabbing her and pulling her down the alley. It don’t show the… ummm, the actual incident, just Rosie emerging again, staggering about fifty metres down the road to a bench before making a phone call and waiting for the ambulance. Then a short while later, another ambulance, followed by paramedics going into the alley and wheeling Medcalf out.”

“What about from inside the pub? Surely they have security cameras in there?” asked Serena.

“That’s where things get a little tricky. The point of the exercise wasn’t so much to gather evidence for a prosecution, as it was to gather enough material to deter one. To be honest, I didn’t really need to watch the footage from the street. I had enough information from what you told me of Rosie’s account. I just thought having a breakdown of the exact times to reel out to Medcalf would add weight.” Paul took a long swallow of his beer.

“So what exactly did you say to him behind the curtains, Paul? We were dying of curiosity, weren’t we, Bernie darling?” 

Serena laid a hand on Bernie’s thigh. She was so caught up in Paul’s narrative, she didn’t notice Bernie’s reaction to both the endearment and the casual, affectionate touch. Kevin and Paul exchanged meaningful looks. So, Serena’s attraction to her friend and colleague would definitely appear to be returned.

“I basically laid it all out for him,” Paul began ticking items off on his fingers. “One, Rosie’s intention to make a statement detailing sexual harassment and sexual assault. Two, my viewing of CCTV footage which I _may_ have implied included inside the pub and down the alley. Three, the statements that a couple of very well respected pillars of society would be making about his previous sexual harassment. That’s you two, by the way. I also passed a few comments about how his pals at work would enjoy taking the piss out of the man who literally had his balls busted by a girl. He’s the type of arsehole who would see that as losing face and an insult to his masculinity. All in all, he saw sense pretty quickly.”

Serena abruptly handed her wine glass to a startled Bernie, got up off the sofa and crossed to envelop Paul in a big hug.

“You are an angel. We were so worried about this having the potential to ruin poor Rosie’s life, weren’t we darling?” Serena looked back at Bernie. 

Bernie just nodded, mutely. Serena repeatedly calling her darling was proving far more intoxicating than the Shiraz they had both been plied with from the moment they had stepped into the flat. The combination was so heady, Bernie was genuinely worried she might do or say something silly if the food didn’t arrive soon. 

“What the dirty bastard doesn’t know is that, come Monday morning, I’ll be having a chat to my old mate, Chief Inspector Mike Bishop. Mike works in Professional Standards. There’s no place on the force for a sleaze like that and I’m going to ask him to begin an investigation into Medcalf’s conduct.” 

Just then the intercom buzzer went, heralding the arrival of the takeaway. Kevin went to answer the door, and Serena went over to organise the dinner table. Bernie stood, placed the glasses she had been holding on the coffee table and approached Paul. 

“Thank you for today,” she said, and there was something in the quiet intensity of her eyes that somehow meant even more to him than Serena’s effusive thanks. 

The moment ended as Kevin returned with two carrier bags, bulging with containers of Chinese food.

“So, like a purple space hopper, you say?”


	11. Chapter 11

The taxi journey to the Town Hall was unusually quiet. Bernie wasn’t the chatty type at the best of times, but Serena generally managed to gently prod her into conversation. Neither of them really noticed the other’s preoccupation however, lost as they both were in thoughts of the other in the changing room earlier. 

Bernie had been embarrassed again that she was wearing ratty, mismatched underwear in the face of Serena’s magnificent, matching black lacy lingerie. The memory of the sight was still swirling around Bernie’s mind. She felt guilty for what she thought was very much the unacceptable ogling of her colleague, but she just couldn’t dismiss the mental image of how beautiful Serena looked.

Serena was lost in the thoughts of Bernie’s endless legs and smooth, pale skin. Marvelling that a woman of her own age, who’d had two kids, could look so amazing. Not to mention imagining those long, long legs wrapped around her. She also couldn’t help but think about the confident assertions from Kevin and Paul that ‘B is clearly as nuts about you, as you are about her, Serena!’ There had also been something about Bernie going ‘full on heart eyes’, which she assumed was youth-speak. Serena was beginning to wonder if Kevin was an influence on the kids at school, or vice versa.

They climbed out of the cab and headed into the Town Hall, Serena linking her arm through Bernie’s, as had quickly become her habit. Habit or not, it took Bernie’s breath away, each and every time. 

“Let’s hope we manage to pay attention this week, Bernie,” Serena said, finally breaking the silence.

“Um, yes. Although I asked Kevin about it on Friday, and he said last week was basically a recap of the techniques from the first course.” 

“That does make sense, for anyone who didn’t attend the previous course. We didn’t waste the week after all.” Serena patted Bernie’s arm.

“I… I um, I wouldn’t have considered it wasted, no matter what. I know we haven’t talked about this, and it’s not the best time to bring it up…” Bernie tapered off and her steps slowed. 

She stopped completely and turned to face Serena.

“I just wanted to say thank you, really. Thank you for listening, and being understanding, I suppose. Most of all, thank you for, um… for taking care of me when I was being so silly over what Kev said.” 

Serena reached out and gently cupped Bernie’s cheek, before pulling her into a hug.

“You weren’t being silly, darling,” she murmured in Bernie’s ear. “You couldn’t help having such a strong emotional response.” 

Bernie barely managed to suppress a shiver of desire at the closeness, the puff of Serena’s breath against her cheek and the endearment. She also had to try and stop her imagination from immediately conjuring images of Serena whispering passionately in her ear in bed. 

Serena gave Bernie a light squeeze, then released her. She tucked her arm back through Bernie’s, and they resumed their journey towards the classroom. 

“I had absolutely no fall out from my relationship with a woman, Bernie, yet I don’t exactly shout about it from the rooftops. Even Siân doesn’t know. Mainly because I would never have heard the last of it, admittedly. She would have been quizzing me for every last detail. I suppose it’s just easier to let people assume that as a fifty-something divorcée, you’re on the straight and narrow, so to speak.”

As they slowly walked up the stairs, Bernie found herself telling Serena an edited version of her phone conversation with Katie.

“I told her, you’re divorced with a daughter. She must have laughed for at least two full minutes before saying something like ‘That’s why you’re assuming Serena’s heterosexual? Let me remind you that you are a divorcée with a couple of kids and an enormous lesbian!’ She’s terrible.” 

As soon as she had said it, Bernie realised her mistake. What if Serena asked why they were discussing her sexuality? Luckily for her, they reached the classroom at that point, and the moment was lost as they signed in and went over to join Paul and Kevin who were standing, talking with Dusty and Neville.

After introductions were made between those who hadn’t already met, Kevin informed the two surgeons that Dusty and her son would be joining them in the pub later for post class drinks.

“Lovely. The more the merrier,” smiled Serena.

Bernie was in two minds about the news. On one hand, she was pleased there would be more people there. She still felt as though she struggled sometimes to maintain a coherent conversation with Serena, unless it was work related. Hopefully she could make it through another evening with making only the bare minimum of a fool of herself. On the other hand, Dusty and Nev’s presence might very well mean that Neville had taken Kevin up on his offer of being there as support when he came out to his mum. The thought of being witness to a big, emotional scene filled her with quiet dread. She had enough trouble dealing with her own emotions and family dramas, never mind other people’s.

At that moment, Kaz moved to the front of the room and indicated the class would begin in a couple of minutes. The group of six found seats and somehow Serena’s chair seemed to get moved closer to Bernie’s and they sat pressed together. Each had their hand resting on their thigh and their pinky fingers were a hair's-breadth apart. Serena desperately wanted to move her hand the millimetre or so it would take to brush Bernie’s finger with hers, but resisted. There would be lots of touching soon enough and without the risk of scaring Bernie.

Kaz announced to the class that that week they would be concentrating on head and hand massage. Serena was delighted that she would get to run her fingers through Bernie’s soft, wavy hair. Bernie was relieved that she wouldn’t have to cope with a half naked Serena. 

As they broke off into pairs to begin the massages, Serena immediately made a point of grabbing Bernie’s hand to make it obvious they would be partnered up. Serena didn’t want Dusty to decide it was her turn to hear about husbands and cats. She tried not to think too hard about just how right it felt to hold hands with Bernie. She’d never been a fan of it, inevitably finding the other person’s grip too tight or too flaccid, or their hands too damp and clammy. Somehow, Bernie’s cool and scrub-roughened surgeon’s hand felt perfect clasped in her own.

They took their chairs with them, over to what had already seemed to have become their regular spot. 

“Sit down, Bernie, and I’ll take the first crack at the head massage, shall I?” Serena placed her chair to one side, and stood behind Bernie’s. 

Obediently, Bernie sat, closed her eyes and tried to relax, thinking this class would be a breeze, compared with the previous ones. 

Oh, how wrong she was! 

What was completely unexpected was this: Berenice Wolfe discovered that having Serena’s fingers running through her hair, and those short nails and firm fingertips massaging her scalp, was a _massive_ turn on. 

As a rule, she barely even tolerated going for a haircut and always avoided getting her hair washed at the hairdresser. When she could get away with it, she even trimmed her hair herself so as to avoid the whole process. This was yet another way in which she wasn’t a tactile person. Apart from where Serena Campbell was concerned, clearly.

Bernie found herself with her jaw clenched and she was almost biting her tongue to stop herself moaning with pleasure. What she wasn’t to realise, was that Serena wasn’t faring too much better, herself. Serena had to keep reminding herself to actually employ the techniques they had been taught by Kaz earlier on, and not just stroke her fingers through the silky blonde strands. Serena couldn’t help imaging how those strands would feel brushing against her skin as Bernie kissed her way down her body.

Kaz called out for everyone to switch around masseuse and recipient. Serena slowly and reluctantly removed her hands from Bernie’s hair. For once, the usually incredibly articulate surgeon was rather lost for words and could only give Bernie a small smile as they swapped places. 

Bernie stood behind Serena and looked down at the silvered hair of the woman in front of her. She had been so ridiculously wrong in her assumption that the class that evening would be easier. Somehow this felt more intimate than having Serena laid out, bared to the waist and covered in oil. She reached out, hands only steady thanks to sheer will power and years of surgical training, and buried her fingers in Serena’s hair. Serena let out a groan of pleasure that Bernie knew would be featuring in her fantasies for a very long time to come.


	12. Chapter 12

After class, Bernie found herself in a comfortably padded booth, with Serena beside her. They had all squeezed into a booth that was roomy for four people but decidedly cozy for six. Bernie didn’t usually like to be hemmed in, and sitting on the inside like that would generally make her feel distinctly twitchy. On this occasion, however, having the warmth of Serena next to her seemed to be acting like a mild sedative. She felt like she had actually _needed_ a sedative after the class they had just finished. The head massage had been difficult enough, after Bernie had discovered that apparently her scalp was one big erogenous zone. Or at least, when touched by Serena it certainly was.

 It also turned out that sitting facing the woman you are enormously attracted to, having her massage your hands (and vice versa) is no easier. Running her oiled fingers over Serena's strong and capable hands was immensely pleasurable. She had to keep reminding herself to actually massage Serena's hands, and not sit there merely holding and stroking them. Somehow, the massages that evening were absolutely the most erotic experiences of Bernie's entire life so far. And all having taken place in a room full of people in the local Town Hall!

 “... don't you think, Bernie? Bernie?” Serena gently squeezed her colleague’s thigh to get her attention. Boy, did that get her attention!

 “Huh? What was that, I was miles away, I'm sorry.”

 Bernie was shaken from her reverie. She was also hyper aware of Serena’s hand, still resting on her leg.

 “I was saying that I think the hand massage techniques could come in very handy to help prevent cramping during long and intricate surgeries. I know I have very occasionally had problems when performing lengthy, delicate vascular procedures.”

 “Oh, yes I suppose it could be helpful. Flexibility is very important of course, so the potential for improved finger and wrist range of motion is certainly something we could benefit from.”

 Bernie was proud of herself for talking coherently whilst Serena’s hand was _still_ resting on her thigh. She then blushed, as somehow her perfectly innocently meant comment suddenly felt full of innuendo. Serena said nothing, merely gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow. Kevin and Paul hastily smothered their amusement as Serena immediately turned her laser beam glare in their direction.

 

The slightly tense moment was broken, as Neville came over to the table, bearing a tray of drinks. Serena and Bernie were again sharing a bottle of Shiraz, albeit a more moderately priced one this week. Dusty, apparently not much of a frequenter of pubs and bars, had been disappointed to discover that Babycham wasn't commonly available in pubs these days, and had settled for a Bacardi and coke. Neville sat down and swallowed almost his entire pint in several long gulps.

 “This is nice. I can’t remember the last time I was in a pub. So many of them seemed to be so noisy that I stopped bothering. What is the point if you can barely hear yourself think, never mind hold a decent conversation? I’m all for a bit of music playing, but there’s no need for it to be so loud that the floor is practically vibrating, don’t you think?” Dusty finally paused for breath, and took a sip of her drink.

 “Mmm, that is delicious, although I do think it’s a shame they don’t sell Babycham. Now, I can’t stay out too late you know. The cats will be expecting me home for their supper. Little Suki gets _quite_ mischievous and sometimes not a little destructive if she thinks her supper is late. And poor Colonel Tom does get lonely if I’m away from him for too long.”

 

Somehow Dusty seemed able to talk without pausing for breath, and drink simultaneously, and very quickly her glass was empty. Wordlessly, Neville stood and returned to the bar for refills for himself and his mum. The other four at the table had barely had a chance to touch their drinks. From his vantage point facing the bar, Paul could see Nev ordering and immediately downing what looked like a very large brandy, before bringing another pint and a Bacardi across to the table. Dusty had been quizzing Kev and Paul about their relationship and asking if they had any wedding photos to show her.

 Dusty then turned to Serena. “You and Bernie make _such_ a lovely couple, Serena. How long have you been together? You seem so perfect for one another. I can practically see you both _vibrating_ with love, darlings!”

 Serena could feel Bernie immediately tense beside her and tried to convey as much reassurance as she could by gently rubbing her thigh.

 “Oh, Bernie and I haven’t actually known each other that long, Dusty. We met at the last massage course, and by a slightly mad coincidence, we now also work together. We do make an amazing team though, there’s no denying that,”

 Serena was careful not to falsely confirm the assumption that she and Bernie were a couple, but at the same time didn’t want to make things awkward by denying it. If Neville did indeed plan on coming out to his mother than evening, it somehow seemed better that any boats remained firmly un-rocked.

 “Ah, but when you know, you know! I remember when I met my first husband, Neville’s father, I knew he was the one for me within minutes, and we were married six weeks after we met. There was never a cross word between us.”

 Paul smothered a laugh as he heard Neville mutter, “That’s because he could never get a word in edgewise,”

 

Neville gulped down half of his pint, before clearing his throat.

 “Mum, there is a reason I suggested… That is, I thought… This evening that we should all come for a drink. Specifically, that all six of us come out… I mean that I wanted to talk and I’ve been chatting to Kevin and to Paul and we all thought…” Nev ground to a halt, his face red and hands visibly trembling.

 Paul laid a reassuring hand on Neville’s shoulder. “Go on, you’re doing fine.”

 “The thing is, Mum,” Nev took a deep breath, “The thing is, and I’ve been wanting to tell you this for ages, that I prefer… That is, I like… Oh god, why is this so difficult? Mum, I’m gay. You keep trying to introduce me to women, but I’m gay. I’m sorry.” Neville went silent and just stared at the pint glass clutched in his white knuckled hand.

 

There was silence for a few moments, before Dusty stood and walked away from the table. Bernie and Serena, with their backs to the room, Kevin, tucked away in the corner of the booth, and Neville, still staring fixedly at his glass, all had no idea where she had gone. Only Paul could see her and the smile on his face grew wider and wider.

 “Go and help your mum, mate. I think she could do with a hand,” suggested Paul, nudging Nev and gesturing towards the bar.

 Nev stood up, looking dejected, but nonetheless walked, head down, across the room.

 “What-” began Serena before Paul cut her off.

 “You’ll see,” he said, with a smile.

 

Dusty and Nev came back into view, between them carrying an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne, and six champagne flutes. As soon as they were safely placed on the table, Dusty threw her arms around her son and hugged him tightly.

 “I love you, Mum. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Neville muttered into his mum’s fiery orange hair.

 “I love you too, darling!” came the reply, before Dusty drew back and planted big kisses on both of his cheeks.

 They sat down, and Dusty made short work of opening and pouring out the champagne.

 “Oh darling, you can’t have thought I would mind you being gay or bisexual, surely? I brought you up to never judge or discriminate. Not to mention the fact my own brother is gay! Your Uncle George and Roger would hardly spend every Christmas and New Year at the house otherwise, would they darling? Plus of course, I have dabbled in relationships with the fairer sex myself on more than one occasion. Most recently I had a brief but _amazingly_ passionate _affaire de coeur_ with the _wonderfully_ appropriately named Les last year, after she let me ride pillion on her Harley at Pride. There is just _something_ about a hot female body in biker leathers, don’t you think, ladies? Of course, now I know where your romantic future lies, I can adjust my horizons accordingly. It’s beyond time you settled down and now I can help you find a lovely young man, darling. Oh, but my grandbabies! I do _so_ want at least one grandbaby to spoil, Neville. Serena! Bernie! Do you know any lovely lesbians who are on the lookout for some sperm? I must get in touch with Les, she might well know of someone. Now tell me, what type of man are we looking for? You do have Grindr installed on your phone, I trust...”


	13. Chapter 13

Serena had been very unsure about agreeing to the night out. The idea of going to a nightclub full of loud music and sweaty young folk, gyrating away, did not fill her with pleasure. She genuinely couldn’t remember the last time she had been to a club. Surely it couldn’t have been as far back as when she was a med student, but she was damned if she could remember anything more recent. Kevin and Paul had been very clever. They had waited until the end of the evening, when she was full of good food and good wine, to persuade both her and Bernie that this was a good idea. 

So here she was, fully made up, not a hair out of place, standing in front of her open wardrobe, trying to decide what on Earth she was going to wear to Rainbowz. An evening gown was completely out of the question, of course. Anyone who knew Serena, knew she loved a colourful, silky blouse. Her habit was to wear her newest blouses off duty, until they lost their sheen of newness, at which point, they would go into rotation as work wear. There was her new dark green blouse with the figs, but it wasn’t exactly evening wear. Not to mention the fact that Kev insisted it looked like it was covered in vaginas. All in spite of his admission that he’d never actually seen one! Still, it had cost her a lot of money, so she wasn’t about to let that put her off wearing it again.

Serena was pushing hangers this way and that, unable to make a decision, when a flash of deep red caught her eye. Oh yes, she had almost forgotten about the red dress. She had bought it a couple of years before, to go on a very ill advised blind date that Siân had set her up on. Not only did the man not look anything like Siân’s description, he had also had body odour that made Serena's eyes water, and had been a crashing bore. Plus, to add the final insult to injury, he had spent the entire evening talking directly to Serena’s breasts. Needless to say, there hadn’t been a second date, and the dress had been consigned to the back of the wardrobe. 

The neckline was lower than anything she usually wore and she’d had to buy a plunge bra especially to wear under it. Serena dug to the back of her underwear drawer. Yes, there it was, the beautiful red bra and knicker set to go with the dress. She had spent a small fortune on the outfit, then never worn it again, thanks to the associations with the terrible blind date. It was time to wear it to a hopefully far more enjoyable night out. 

Having donned her lingerie, Serena smoothed a pair of sheer black stockings up her legs. She looked at herself in the mirrored wardrobe door, and gave a nod of approval. Serena was rarely particularly happy with the way she looked. Age had definitely taken its toll on her body, but there was just something about the confidence that beautiful underwear gave her. She zipped herself into the red dress, added a pair of heels and put on her ruby earrings. Perfect. Looking at the marvellous things the bra and low cut dress did for her breasts, maybe it was no wonder her date had been unable to look away, Serena thought, a trifle smugly. She was undoubtedly way over-dressed for a cheesy Eighties night, in what the boys had described as a tacky club, but never mind.

 

Bernie couldn’t believe she was going clubbing. Had been totally adamant there was no way she was going to Rainbowz. Had been determined to resist the fact that it was going to be a celebration of Nev’s official coming out, that she just _had_ to be there, as she had been part of Neville’s coming out to his mum, that even _Dusty_ was going to be there, for heaven’s sake! All that had fallen on steely, deaf ears, until two words were spoken. ‘Please, Bernie.’ Those two words, falling from Serena’s lips, were all it took to smash through Bernie’s resolve.

There wasn’t any point in getting dressed up, Bernie thought. Then laughed at herself. It wasn’t as though she actually had anything smart to get dressed up in. Well, unless you counted the suit she had bought for job interviews once she had re-entered civvy street. Either way, her main memories of clubs, wayback when, were of wet, sticky floors and lots of spilled beer. Jeans and her trusty Doc Martens seemed like the sensible option. A quick swipe of mascara on her lashes, and a touch of lip balm applied, Bernie then made a half-hearted effort with her brush to smooth her hair, but quickly gave up. She slipped on her leather jacket and patted her pockets. Keys, wallet and phone. She was all set. Perfect timing, as Serena should be arriving downstairs in the cab any minute to pick her up. 

 

The taxi pulled up in front of the small block of flats just in time for Serena to see Bernie emerge from the front door. As usual, the sight of the tall and beautiful blonde made Serena’s heart flutter. 

“Good evening, Bernie darling. I hope you have your dancing shoes on tonight,” she greeted her friend, as she slid into the back seat beside her.

“Hmmm, I don’t know about that. I was never much of a mover, even in my youth. My friends used to refer to my dance moves as ‘the awkward stork’ which probably gives you an idea of my talents in that area!” Bernie snorted.

“I can’t say I’m planning on throwing any shapes, as the young folk almost certainly no longer say,” Serena admitted. “I’ve asked the driver to drop us on the High Street in town, by the way. I thought we could have a meal before meeting the boys at the pub later on. At least the beginning of the night can be a civilised affair, befitting the reputation of a pair of respectable consultant surgeons!” 

“I still can’t believe I allowed you to talk me into this, Serena,” Bernie grumbled, knowing full well she would do absolutely anything asked of her by the woman sitting beside her.

**

As they left the restaurant to make their way to meet the others at The Birdcage, a pub just around the corner from Rainbowz, Bernie reflected on how successful the meal had been. If you discounted the moments her eyes were out on stalks and her jaw practically hitting the ground, that is. The sight of Serena Campbell in that dress would undoubtedly be seared in her memory forever. She looked absolutely stunning, and Bernie had felt embarrassed at how underdressed she herself was. She consoled herself a little that at least the restaurant wasn’t the linen tablecloths and candle light type. Besides all that, the conversation had flowed easily. It seemed that in spite of being wildly attracted to Serena, Bernie could finally engage her brain properly, outside of a medical setting.

 

Serena tucked her arm through her friend's, savouring the warmth of the soft leather of Bernie’s jacket. That had been one of the best meals she’d had in a while. Not the food or wine, which had been okay, but nothing special. It was more that she felt, for the first time, she was at last getting to see something of the real Bernie. She seemed to finally be lowering her barriers a little. Serena just hoped Bernie hadn’t noticed her practically drooling at the sight of her outfit. Boots, tight, faded jeans, a well fitted white t-shirt and a leather jacket? Was Bernie actually trying to kill her? Serena had never really thought about what she particularly found attractive in a woman, had never had a ‘type’ as such. If her racing pulse, and the throb between her legs were any indication, the absolute pinnacle of who and what she found attractive was Bernie Wolfe, in that outfit!

What neither of them realised was that when each of them had excused themselves to the ladies, it hadn’t entirely been to answer the call of nature. Both had needed a break from gazing across the table at their beautiful dining companion. Both had needed to give themselves a stern talking to in the mirror, not to get carried away and make a fool of themselves. Both had made liberal use of the cold tap to try and cool the flush of heat that the sight of the other had generated. Both were absolutely head over heels in love, if only they realised it!


	14. Chapter 14

Serena and Bernie walked into The Birdcage. Serena looked around with interest, having been past before, but never inside. It was in, what members of the local LGBTQ+ community ambitiously called, the gay village. Gay hamlet was probably far more accurate, consisting as it did of Rainbowz, The Birdcage, a vegetarian cafe-bar and a shop that sold all things LGBTQ+ (including a small adult section, discreetly curtained off in a back room, according to Kev).

Their group was easy to spot, with Dusty’s shock of orange hair immediately catching the eye. Paul let out a piercing wolf whistle when he saw Serena.

“Look at you! You look absolutely amazing, Serena. Way too sexy for Rainbowz, that’s for sure. The baby dykes won’t know what’s hit them. Bernie, you’re looking great too. Lesbian James Dean, very nice.” Kevin gave them both a hug and a kiss on each cheek.

Bernie just blushed and mumbled something about going to the bar. As soon as she established what everyone was drinking, she made her escape. She had been genuinely shocked at the hot stab of jealousy that shot through her at the thought of anyone lusting after Serena. She hadn’t thought there was a jealous bone in her body up until that moment. Maybe it was, in actual fact, that she had just been utterly indifferent to anyone potentially giving Marcus the eye! 

Bernie’s head whipped round as she felt a hand snake around her waist.

“S..Serena, I didn’t see you there,” she gasped.

“I just thought I would give you a hand carrying the drinks, darling. Not to mention giving my brain a rest from Dusty’s never ending monologue. I’m half tempted to check behind her ears for gills, because I swear she doesn’t even pause to draw breath.”

“I..I suppose that will be the one advantage of going to the club after this. Even Dusty will struggle to be too chatty,” Bernie felt quite proud of herself for being able to string a sentence together, while Serena’s hand was still resting on her hip.

**

They walked into Rainbowz and the women in the group immediately winced, as the music hit them like a wall. 

If Dusty disliked pubs that played loud music, she was going to absolutely hate this, Bernie thought. She herself had forgotten quite how the music in a club seemed to envelop you, how you could feel the beat rumbling through your chest. She was also relieved she wasn't working the following day. There was no way her hearing would be recovered by the morning, and it wasn't too professional to have to ask patients to repeat themselves multiple times. She was also glad she’d put her jacket into the cloakroom, because the place was sweltering. 

Kev and Paul had been waylaid by some friends on the way in, and Bernie and Serena had soon lost track of them. They then watched Dusty take hold of Neville’s arm, and practically drag him over to a cluster of men. She immediately began talking in her usual animated fashion, clearly not allowing the loud music to interfere with her plan to look for love on her son’s behalf.

Bernie felt Serena tap her on the shoulder and turned to see her making the universal ‘want a drink?’ hand tipping signal. After a couple of attempts, Bernie managed to tell Serena that she wanted a pint of cider. Somehow, she didn’t expect the wine in a nightclub to be up to much. As long as it wasn’t Strongbow, they couldn’t really mess up cider too badly. She trailed after Serena, feeling old and out of place. 

There was a crush of people at the bar, so Bernie was slightly surprised to see Serena being served so quickly. Until, that was, she saw the young woman behind the bar blatantly ogling Serena’s cleavage. She leaned right over the counter top to allow Serena to give the drinks order directly into her ear. She then said something back, which made Serena laugh. She came back with the drinks, a pint of Magners in a plastic glass for Bernie, and what looked like a gin and tonic for Serena, who presumably had the same thoughts about the wine. Bernie watched with narrowed eyes as the girl’s hand definitely lingered and stroked Serena’s, as money was exchanged.

They moved away slightly from the worst of the crowd around the bar area.

“She fancies you,” Bernie shouted at Serena.

“What? I can’t hear you!” Serena cupped her free hand around her ear.

Bernie leaned in closer, “I said, she fancies you. The girl behind the bar.”

“Don’t be silly. She’s young enough to be my daughter. In fact, she might be even younger than Elinor.”

Bernie just shrugged and took a big swallow of her drink. Which she almost choked on when Serena took her hand. 

“Come on, let’s see if we can find somewhere to sit,” Serena yelled in Bernie’s ear.

Once again, Bernie trailed behind Serena, but this time hand in hand. They found a tall table, covered in empties, and a couple of stools to perch on. Bernie stacked the empty plastic glasses, gathered up the bottles and ferried them all to the end of the nearby bar. By the time she returned, Serena had apparently attracted a whole fan club of young women. 

Bernie looked at them sourly. All young enough to be their kids, and Serena seemed to be lapping it up. She reached past one to retrieve her drink, and gulped down a large portion of her pint. Why the hell had she allowed herself to be talked into this? 

 

My god, this place is even louder than I expected, Serena thought. Surely they must be breaching all kinds of European health and safety guidelines. She glanced at the small group of young women who, as soon as Bernie had cleared the collection of detritus, had begun to rest their drinks on the table. A couple of them started chatting, well, bellowing to be more accurate. One girl, Christine or (maybe Crystal?), asked Serena about Bernie.

“How long have you been married?” Crystal (or Kirsty?) shrieked in Serena’s ear.

Serena could see Kirsty’s (possibly Cassie?) eyes light up when Serena managed to yell back that they were friends and workmates. It took a shocking amount of self control to stop herself from telling the younger woman to back the hell off. The next thing she knew, Cassie (Custard? Who bloody knew, or cared, thought Serena) was sidling up to Bernie. Serena deliberately turned toward the girl propping herself up on the table next to her, and tried to engage her in something approaching conversation. She just couldn’t bear to watch Bernie being chatted up. 

She held out as long as she could, but eventually, couldn’t help but glance back. Bernie and Caitlin (Cardamom?) were nowhere to be seen. Fuck. Serena returned her attention to the girl she had been chatting to, determined not to obsess over what Bernie was doing. It turned out that Angie (and Serena was _quite_ sure she’d got this name correct) was soon to begin her F1 placement, and was just waiting to find out where she would be sent. They began to discuss all things medical.

 

Bernie came back from the bar, fresh pint in one hand, and a G&T for Serena in the other, only to see Serena still engrossed in conversation with the beautiful young redhead. The drink in front of her still looked largely untouched. Bernie shrugged, then chugged down the gin. A shudder ran through her, as she had never liked the taste of tonic water, but waste not, want not. She immediately took a big slurp of her cider, to take away the bitter taste. 

“Bugger this.”

Bernie looked around the crowded club, trying to spot Paul and Kevin. Aha, there they were, across the room. She gulped down her pint of cider in record time. All those years in the Army had taught her a thing or two about necking pints, she thought, with a snigger. She slammed her glass down on the little table, the effect rather muted when the flimsy plastic just crumpled. With one final look at Serena, Bernie wove her way through the mass of bodies to join Kev and Paul on the dance floor.

By this point, Bernie had had quite a lot to drink. She had shared two bottles of Shiraz with Serena earlier, although as was usual, Serena drank a little more of the wine than Bernie. Two pints of cider, drunk rapidly and of course the large gin and tonic. All of this added together was enough to considerably lower Bernie’s natural inhibitions. For the first time in about thirty years, Bernie Wolfe unleashed the Awkward Stork!

 

Serena found herself alone at the table. Angie and the other girls had gone off to dance, and Bernie was still nowhere to be seen. Serena levered herself upright, using the foot rest of the stool to give herself a few extra inches of height and looked around. She spotted Bernie almost straight away, her blonde hair somehow a beacon that drew Serena’s eye, even in such a crowded environment. Bernie was dancing. Now there was a sight she hadn’t expected to see!

Just as Serena was about to go over to Bernie and the boys, she felt a warm and clammy hand on her arm.

“I thought I’d buy a beautiful lady a drink. You looked lonely, sitting here.”

Serena looked down at the hand grasping her forearm, and pulled away.

“No thank you, I’m just about to join my friends,” she said, coldly.

A bottle of something that looked more like windscreen washer fluid than anything drinkable, was thrust towards her, and the damp, meaty hand found its place back on her arm. Serena turned her best laser glare on the persistent man. The glare that, so popular rumour went, had on more than one occasion scared F1s so badly that a little bit of wee came out. 

“I said no. Thank you.”

The man, who looked rather too much like her bastard ex husband, pasted a hurt expression on his potato-like face. 

“But I’ve already bought the drink.”

Serena didn’t know if he was aiming for a puppy dog look, but to her it looked more like constipation. She opened her mouth to tell him exactly where to go...

 

Bernie suddenly felt odd. There was something wrong, and she couldn’t put her finger on it. She had been deliberately facing away from the table where Serena had been cozying up with her new friend. There was no point in torturing herself, after all. She turned around to look for Serena, and what she saw had her striding across the dance floor like a heat-seeking missile!

 

“There you are, Serena. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Bernie slung her arm around Serena’s shoulder and placed a careful kiss on her friend’s temple.

Serena didn’t need rescuing, but there was no denying, the feel of the other woman’s arm around her was a welcome one. She had no real desire to go toe to toe that evening with a Robbie Medcalf type if she could help it.

“Would you mind taking your hand off my wife’s arm please?” The words were polite, but it was undoubtedly Major Wolfe talking, not the mild-mannered Bernie. 

The man, who still seemed determined not to take no for an answer, ostentatiously looked at both their naked ring fingers and smirked. Bernie sighed, took hold of the hand that was _still_ on Serena’s arm and lifted it off. She leaned forward, until her nose was millimetres away from his.

“Fuck. Off. Before I _really_ hurt you,” she said with cold fury, her strong, surgeon’s fingers digging into a pressure point in the man’s wrist. He went pale. 

Bernie then deliberately turned her back on the would-be suitor and swiftly pulled Serena into her arms for a passionate kiss.

 

**Group chat: Serena &Bernie&Paul&Kev**

**Bernie Wolfe:** _Sorry boys, Serena and I are both suddenly exhausted. We’re off to find a cab home. Thanks for a fun night, and we’ll see you on Wednesday._

 

**Group chat: Kev &Paul&Serena**

**Kevin Barker:** _Serena! We saw you snog her! Tell us EVERYTHING._


	15. Chapter 15

**Group chat: Serena &Bernie&Paul&Kev**

 

**Bernie Wolfe:** _ Don’t say I didn’t warn you! _

**Bernie Wolfe:** _ 17 Elm Close, All Saints Road, Holby, HL4 2JS. _

  
  


It had happened. The suggestion that Bernie had been both expecting and dreading. Booze and takeaway night was happening at her place. Her feeble attempt to demur had been brushed off with a casual ‘Don’t be silly, it will be fine,’ from Serena. Bernie had tried to warn her that the flat wasn’t really very visitor friendly, but Serena wasn’t to be put off. She merely reassured Bernie that it was ‘only a few drinks and a takeaway. Stop worrying so much, darling.’ As usual, the endearment made Bernie flush with pleasure, and her half-hearted objections had ground to a halt.

It really didn’t help that this would be the first time she would be seeing Serena outside of work, since The Kiss. Bernie hadn’t gone to class that week. There had been a red phone trauma emergency, an hour before their shift was due to end, so Bernie had naturally stayed to deal with it. She had waved off Serena’s offer to stay and help, telling her to go and enjoy herself. Serena had suggested that Bernie could possibly join them for the after class drink. Bernie agreed, all the while knowing she would be going straight home after work. She could still feel the ghostly burn of Serena’s mouth against hers, and desperately needed any extra time she could grab, to try and push all her emotions and desires back in their box, to be shoved to the back of her mind. 

She looked around the flat, improved as much as was possible by the twin restraints of lack of time and the amount she could fit into her car. Her sporty little Mazda was great fun to drive, but wasn’t exactly roomy. Bernie had ended up settling for a mad dash to her local Argos. At least she now had new wine and beer glasses, a coffee table to put them on, and a folding chair for her to sit on. To try and make the place a tiny bit less bland and a tiny bit more comfortable, she had bought some bright, colourful cushions for the sofa and armchair. There was also a brand new set of tableware and cutlery. A second, hurried trip to her local supermarket provided a selection of beer and half a dozen bottles of Shiraz. Bernie hoped Serena didn’t realise quite how much a couple of the bottles had set her back. She had also bought a few bottles of cider. Her Thistly Cross stash was dangerously low, with no sign of the chance for a trip to Scotland in the near future. 

The new coffee table had been put together, all the new kitchen bits and pieces were washed and on the draining board and all the packaging had been consigned to the recycling bins. She had taken a swipe at the dust on the mantelpiece and run the vacuum cleaner over the living room carpet. Her flat was about as ready for visitors as it would ever be. Time to get herself ready.

 

Bernie stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. It was 6.52pm and that meant she had just over half an hour to go until Serena and the boys were due. Wandering through to the kitchen, she felt she had earned the right to try one of her new ciders. After all, the only thing that she had left to do was get dressed. She popped the cap off a bottle of Agnoletti cider that had caught her eye in the supermarket and took an experimental swig. Hmmm, it was no Thistly Cross, but it was very nice and a hell of a lot easier to get hold of. What a result! 

Just as she had perched on the edge of the armchair, trying not to touch the upholstery with her still wet legs, there was a knock at the front door. How odd. Bernie didn’t really know any of her neighbours in her block, beyond the very occasional reciprocal taking in of parcels. Anyone else would have needed to buzz up on the intercom for entry into the building.

  
  


Serena knew she was ridiculously early as her cab pulled up to Bernie’s address at just before 6.30. Somehow she just hadn’t been able to wait any longer to see her friend and colleague. Serena had felt cheated when the bloody trauma phone had put the kibosh on Bernie attending that week’s massage class. She’d been so disappointed when Bernie messaged to say she was exhausted and wouldn’t be joining them in the pub. It also didn’t help when the boys took the opportunity to quiz her thoroughly about the abrupt exit she and Bernie had made from the club. She explained again and again, the reason for The Kiss and that no, they hadn’t rushed off to ‘shag each other’s brains out’ as Kev so delicately put it! The whole incident had been to deter the creepy sleaze who just wouldn’t back off. Nothing more. They didn't believe a single word of it, of course.

No matter how much time she spent with Bernie, it never seemed to be enough. While their shifts didn’t one hundred percent match up, they were scheduled on together more often than not. They went to class and the pub on a Wednesday night and saw each other one weekend evening with the boys. In spite of this, Serena couldn’t wait another hour to leave for Bernie’s. She had been going to have a wander round, to try and get rid of some of her nervous energy, then maybe find a convenient wall to sit on or something. However, as she stepped out of the cab, it began to rain, and she had brought neither jacket nor brolly.

As she hurried towards the building, someone stepped through, and courteously held the heavy outer door open for her. Serena breathlessly thanked them, and stood for a moment, brushing a few raindrops from her face. Well, she could lurk in the lobby feeling completely conspicuous, or she could make her way up to Bernie's flat. Deciding against taking the lift, Serena slowly began to climb the stairs to the top floor.

“Bloody hell, what on earth was I thinking?” she panted as she finally reached the top.

She sat on the stairs for a few minutes, not wanting to knock on Bernie's front door a sweaty, breathless mess. It wasn't exactly like she didn't have plenty of time to kill either. As she sat, she heard her mobile chime in her bag.

 

**Group chat: Kev &Paul&Serena**

 

**Paul Michaels:** _ Do you want us to swing by and pick you up, Serena? I'm driving tonight, as I'm on call, remember? We thought we would save you getting a cab, and that you might like us to all arrive at the Wolfe’s den together ;) _

**Serena Campbell:** _ I don't want you both to make a big deal out of this, but I'm here already. Not in her flat yet, but… Oh, I don't know. I left home stupidly early, arrived stupidly early. How do I explain that away? I'm about to make a complete fool of myself, aren't I? _

**Paul Michaels:** _ You were *that* eager to see her? _

**Serena Campbell:** _ Well, yes I suppose I was, in all honesty. I just can’t seem to see enough of her. I sound like a ridiculous teenager with a bloody crush, don’t I? _

**Kevin Barker:** _ No Serena, you sound like a woman in love. _

**Serena Campbell:** _ Oh god, I think you’re right. _

**Serena Campbell:** _ I think… _

**Serena Campbell:** _ No, I know... _

**Serena Campbell:** _ Boys, I love her. _

 

Serena dropped her phone back into her bag, ignoring the series of notifications that followed her last message. She reached into the shopping bag she had brought with her, and pulled out a bottle of Shiraz. There was no way she could do this stone cold sober.

“Thank fuck for screw top wine bottles,” she muttered, as she cracked the seal and proceeded to take several healthy gulps.

Was she  _ really _ in love with Bernie? Incredibly attracted, yes. There was certainly no denying that. But love? Serena had had no intention of falling in love again at her age. It made you too vulnerable. The last time she had really given love a go, was when she has rather naively given her bastard of an ex-husband another chance, and had ended up hurt and humiliated by him, yet again.

This is Bernie though, she thought. Sweet, kind and beautiful Bernie. Bernie, who the moment they said goodbye at the end of a shift, or a night out, she immediately missed. Bernie, who seemed to be the first thing on her mind as she woke and the last thing as she drifted off to sleep.

“I do love her. I love Bernie.” Serena’s wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or cry.

‘Okay. I had better not get ahead of myself here. I still have to work with her and no matter what the boys may think, I have no reason to assume my attraction to her is returned,’ Serena thought.

“Friendly,  _ platonically  _ friendly, and professional. Nothing has changed, Kiss or no Kiss,” she told herself, firmly.

 

Finally, Serena felt sufficiently composed. She stashed the half empty wine bottle back in the shopping bag, and reached into her handbag for her lipstick and mirror. As she looked at her reflection, she tried to work out what Bernie could possibly find attractive in her tired old face. Surely the boys were incorrect in their assumption that Bernie had any feelings other than friendly and protective ones? 

She stood, pushed through the stairwell door and made her way along the corridor to number 17. She paused and looked at her watch. 6.54pm. Still over half an hour earlier than expected, but not quite as bad as being a full hour early. She considered a couple of different excuses - ‘I wasn’t sure how long the taxi would take, what with all the roadworks at the moment.’ Not  _ too _ bad. ‘I thought you might need a hand getting ready for tonight.’ No, that just made Serena imagine Bernie getting dressed!

 

Serena took a deep breath and knocked on the door of number 17. The potential excuses and the planned cheery greeting died on her lips at the sight that greeted her.


	16. Chapter 16

“Oh, Serena! It's you,” 

Bernie mentally kicked herself for stating the bloody obvious. She also felt like her entire body was blushing, having opened the door to the woman she had fallen for so hopelessly, whilst wearing nothing but a bath towel.

“The… the entry buzzer thing didn’t go, so I didn’t realise…” Bernie suddenly realised she was standing in her open front doorway in her threadbare towel and blushed even harder. “Sorry, sorry! Please, come in Serena. Come in.” 

Bernie stood back to allow Serena entry into her home. As she moved, she felt the towel begin to untuck itself and made a frantic grab for it. 

“Oh whoops! Umm… I’d better… Er, if you would excuse me. Make… make yourself comfortable. Living room is through there. Please sit, and I’ll be back in a minute. Sorry. I won’t be long. Sorry.” Bernie scuttled towards her bedroom, absolutely mortified that she had almost managed to flash Serena. 

Bernie sat on the edge of her bed for a couple of minutes, trying to compose herself. She had come **so** close to ending up standing at her front door, stark naked in front of Serena. The always calm and poised Serena. It was like something out of a cheap farce. 

Well this wasn’t getting her ready. Bernie stood up and hastily dried off. As she pulled on her underwear, she couldn’t help picture Serena’s beautiful matching lingerie sets. This had begun happening more and more frequently when she dressed and undressed these days. Particularly when she was changing at work, unsurprisingly. Not that she was tempted to emulate Serena’s taste in underwear. Bernie was very much function, comfort and value over style when it came to clothes. She pulled on leggings and reached for her favourite shirt. Grabbing her wet towel, she went through to the bathroom.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Bernie tried to tame the wild tangle of her hair, which she had hurriedly scrubbed semi-dry. She settled for brushing out the tangles, knowing that whatever she did, it would revert back to its default, unruly state as it dried completely. It had always taken a lot of effort and hairspray to make her hair look neat, and she had stopped bothering once she left the formality of the Army behind her.

Serena Campbell was sitting in her living room, a thing which scared and delighted her in equal measures. She had been entertaining fantasies of having Serena in her home since first meeting her, but the actual reality was another thing entirely. Well, let’s be honest, these fantasies mainly featured the bedroom, rather than the rest of her flat. Although, there was that dream she had the other night, involving the kitchen counter...

“Please try not to make a complete fool of yourself this evening, Wolfe,” she told her reflection, sternly.

 

Oh god, the last thing Serena needed, mere minutes after realising she was head over heels in love with Bernie Wolfe, was to see the object of her affections wrapped only in a tiny towel. Her blonde hair still dripping. Her toned, smooth shoulders still beaded with water droplets. Those amazing clavicles on display. Her endless legs, bare and sparkling with moisture. 

Serena walked in something of a daze into the living room, and sank into an armchair. She blindly reached into her shopping bag and pulled out the half full bottle of Shiraz. Unscrewing the top, she put the bottle to her lips and drank deeply. As she swallowed the final mouthful, she came to her senses. She had just consumed an entire bottle of wine in the space of about thirty minutes. 

“Get a grip, Campbell. Slow right down on the wine, before you make a complete show of yourself.” A thought suddenly struck her. “Oh shit, how do I explain away the empty?” 

Serena looked around frantically, as if a solution was going to magically leap out at her from thin air. Her gaze fell on her handbag. She quickly emptied half the contents on to the floor, lay the empty bottle inside, then chucked everything back on top. Thank goodness her handbag was practically the size of a small suitcase. She picked up her phone, and without bothering to read the long stream of messages from the boys:

**Serena Campbell:** _Whatever you’re doing right now, drop it and get here! I’ve necked a whole bloody bottle of Shiraz, Bernie answered the door in just her towel and **god** I wanted to follow her into the bedroom and rip it off her. _

**Kevin Barker:** _Don't worry Serena, we’re on our way. Just make sure you stick a sock on the doorknob if you give in to your urges!_

**Kevin Barker:** _Paul just told me off for that last comment, and said to hold on tight and don’t do anything you’ll regret in the morning. We won’t be long, so try and behave yourself xx_

**Serena Campbell:** _Believe me, I’m doing my best!_

Looking around the room for any kind of distraction, Serena realised there really weren’t any. The room was a bland, cream coloured box, the only decoration being a few photos. Serena stood to take a closer look. There was a duplicate of the family portrait Bernie kept on her desk, a couple of baby pictures, but it was the fourth photo that really caught Serena’s eye. Presumably taken in Afghanistan, there was Bernie with her arm around the shoulders of a woman. There was a carefree, joyful smile on Bernie’s face that Serena had yet to see on her friend. She looked closer at the other woman, a stunning brunette. Wow, if that’s the class of competition, I don’t have a hope in hell, Serena thought to herself. She went and slumped back in the armchair, despondently. 

 

A couple of minutes later, Bernie entered the living room, with a glass of red wine in her hand.

“I’m sorry, Serena. I’m already a terrible host. Leaving you sitting here, without even offering you a drink. I made an educated guess that a glass of Shiraz would be acceptable,” Bernie smiled shyly and held the glass out.

"Never mind your hosting skills, I’m a terrible guest. I’m so sorry for turning up so early, and catching you on the hop, Bernie darling. I had thought that perhaps you might want a hand preparing for grown up visitors!” Serena winked at Bernie, as she accepted the proffered glass then took a small sip, mindful of the amount she had already had. 

“Mmm, that’s delicious, Bernie. Good choice. I brought a couple… Umm, I mean a bottle of Shiraz, and a little something for you,” she reached into her shopping bag and took out the remaining bottle of wine and a tall box, which she handed to Bernie. 

“I wasn’t sure if you prefer Scottish or Irish, so of course, I went for Japanese! I hadn’t even realised they made whisky in Japan, but the lovely man at my favourite off license assured me it’s very good.”

Bernie thanked her, then retrieved the bottle of cider she had opened earlier and perched on the folding chair. 

“I slightly surprised myself by getting the flat ready with time to spare, if I’m entirely honest, Serena. I’ve even hoovered, which is a rare event.” Bernie took a sip of her drink.

“I’m honoured, and the boys will be too, no doubt. What’s that you’re drinking, Bernie? Is it beer?”

“No, it’s Italian cider. Who knew that the Italians make excellent cider? Would you like to try it?” She offered the bottle to Serena.

“Oh, no thank you, darling. Let me take a look though, so I can make sure to get some for the next time I have you. Have you over, I mean. To the house. Erm, you should have said you preferred something other than the Shiraz you’ve been stuck with.” Serena buried her nose in her wine glass, hoping Bernie hadn’t noticed her Freudian slip.

“I don’t mind Shiraz at all. I’ve developed quite a taste for it recently,” Bernie’s gaze met Serena’s, and locked.

They both jumped, as a buzzing sound came from the hallway. Saved by the bell!

“That will be Paul and Kev. If you’ll excuse me a moment, Serena.” 

Bernie got up and left the room. Serena breathed a sigh of relief. With the boys here to help carry the conversation, hopefully there would be less of a chance of her making a complete arse of herself.


	17. Chapter 17

Serena found herself clutching a rapidly emptying wine glass after Bernie had left the room to respond to the buzz of the entry phone. So much for slowing down on the consumption. She put the glass down on the coffee table and tried taking several deep, calming breaths. She heard the front door open and then Paul and Kev’s voices, greeting Bernie. Serena stood up, feeling a little like she had just been thrown a lifeline. Surely the boys would prevent her from making a drunken fool of herself?

A few minutes later, Kev and Paul entered the living room, with Bernie trailing behind. Serena barely waited for Kev to put down his beer bottle before pouncing on him for a hug. After releasing him, Paul was then treated to an equally fervent embrace.

“Gosh, anyone would think we hadn’t seen you in weeks, Serena,” joked Paul. 

“What? Oh, you know, just happy to have our little gang back together again,” Serena replied, a little feebly.

There was a short but intense discussion, when Bernie insisted that no, the folding chair was hers for the evening, and that the guests were under no circumstances to sit on it. Both Paul and Kev attempted to be chivalrous and take the hard seat, but Bernie was having none of it. Serena kept quiet, having no desire to risk subjecting her bum to an uncomfortable looking, unpadded plastic chair! 

Out of habit, Serena picked up her wine glass and drank the last centimetre of Shiraz. This taking it slow lark didn’t come easy, especially when the wine was such a nice one. She hadn’t noticed, but Bernie had brought the bottle in with her and immediately topped up Serena’s glass.

“Ah, er thank you Bernie. This is a lovely wine. I don’t think I’ve had this one before, as far as I know. It’s absolutely delicious, so I’m sure I would have remembered.”

Bernie hadn’t really paid any attention to which bottle she had opened after Serena had caught her so on the hop earlier. Glancing at the label, she was pretty sure it was one of the two rather pricey bottles she had bought. She wasn’t about to admit that she had strayed into the fine wine section of the supermarket booze department earlier that day. 

“Is it nice? I’m glad. I just picked up half a dozen different bottles of Shiraz and hoped for the best,” she ventured.

“Half a dozen? Even Serena can’t put away six bottles in a night, B! Well at least you’re all set for the next time she comes to visit, eh?” Kev shot a sly glance at Serena, who merely glared back. Bernie picked up her own drink and tried not to imagine cozy nights in, just her and Serena and a bottle of Shiraz.

“So Bernie, your home isn’t anywhere near as bad as you had us fearing. I was half expecting a total hovel, the way you tried to put us off,” said Paul, glancing around the living room.

“Oh, er well… It’s just in comparison to your homes really. Serena’s is so cozy, so comfortable and homely. Your flat is sleek and modern and stylish. This place isn’t really a home, as much as the place I store my stuff and come to, to shower and sleep.” Bernie shrugged. “I mean, look at it.”

“Well it is quite bland, sure. As all the best property shows would say, it’s a blank canvas. At the risk of sounding like a complete gay stereotype, Kev and I have a decent eye for design, B. We could probably lend a hand brightening the place up, if you like. It’s a two bedroom, right? Do you use the spare room for your home gym?”

Bernie laughed at the thought. “When people hear I was in the Army for so many years, they immediately assume I’m super fit. That I’m the type to run a marathon before breakfast and pump iron, or whatever. Believe me, I have _never_ willingly exercised.”

“A woman after my own heart. Bugger exercise!” Serena raised her glass to clink off Bernie’s bottle. “Hang on, wait a minute. If you never exercise, that means your utterly perfect figure is achieved with absolutely zero effort. Oh, I should really, really hate you Bernie Wolfe!” 

Bernie just sat and blushed at the thought that Serena considered her figure perfect.

 

Kevin noticed the picture frames on the mantelpiece and got up to take a closer look. He pointed at the photograph of Bernie with her children. “Oh look at you in your posh uniform, Major Wolfe. If I wasn’t a married man, I almost think that you could turn me, looking like that! Don’t you think she looks hot, Serena? And I’m not just talking about the desert.” He picked up the picture of Bernie and the mystery brunette. “Woah, who’s the absolute babe with you in this one, B?” Kevin saw the look on Serena’s face, an awful mixture of anger and despair, and realised he had gone too far. He replaced the picture, cleared his throat awkwardly and sat back down beside Paul.

“That’s Alex Dawson with me. Captain Alex Dawson. She’s an anaesthetist and she was my closest friend when I was working in Kabul,” Bernie replied, oblivious to Serena staring daggers at Kev.

The name rang a bell and Serena perked up. “Isn't she…? Didn’t you tell me a few weeks ago that she’s married?”

Bernie smiled. “Yes, I haven’t met her wife in the flesh, but I have spoken to Isobel a couple of times on Skype. She’s absolutely lovely. She and Alex have done a far better job of staying happily married, in spite of long deployments abroad, than I did.” 

“Bernie darling, two points. One, you managed 25 years of marriage, that’s pretty bloody good going. Two, you were a lesbian married to a man! That makes the 25 years practically a bloody miracle, darling!” Serena had cheered up no end, once she realised the beautiful brunette in the picture had never been romantically involved with Bernie. 

“Umm, I was thinking we could order pizza tonight, if that’s okay with you all. I thought it would probably be the easiest option, as I don’t have a dining table,” suggested Bernie, ever so subtly changing the subject. 

A light hearted debate began over the best place to order from and then on the best toppings. Bernie suggested ham and pineapple, much to the disgust of Kev and Paul. Serena agreed with Bernie when she called them pizza snobs, and backed up the suggestion. Decisions were eventually made, and the order placed.

 

“So Paul, has there been any progress in getting that creepy bastard Medcalf kicked off the force yet?” Serena piped up.

“Wow, don’t mince your words, Serena. Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you!” Paul snorted. “I did give Mike Bishop a ring this morning, as it happens, because I had a feeling that you might ask. The investigation is still ongoing, but it seems that as well as perving at civvies, Robbie the Bobby also has a bad habit of crapping on his own doorstep. There have apparently been several women from his last couple of stations who have come forward with information about inappropriate behaviour. I suspect he won’t be a police officer much longer.” 

“There is no place for a man like that in a position of authority!” Bernie stated, with unusual vehemence. “Combine his kind of predatory behaviour with any kind of power, and it’s a recipe for disaster. I’ve known too many men over the years who were all too happy to abuse their position.”

The other three friends were surprised by Bernie’s tone. They were used to her being so measured and, well almost meek at times. It even amazed Serena, who of course had seen Bernie in what she had privately dubbed ‘Major Wolfe mode’, running the trauma bay like a military operation. It reminded her of Bernie warning off the unwanted suitor in Rainbowz the weekend before, and she suppressed a shiver of desire.

“Bernie? You weren’t…?” Serena trailed off.

“Oh no, not me. Let’s just say though, I didn’t make myself too popular at several different postings over the years. I’ve never been one to stand by and ignore abuse of power or harassment of any kind. The closest I ever came to experiencing that kind of thing myself, was when I was newly commissioned. A colonel, probably old enough to be my father, decided to grab my arse. I dislocated his thumb. It was all swept under the carpet, but I think I must have gained something of a reputation, because nothing remotely like it ever happened to me again.”

At that moment, the entry phone buzzed, announcing the arrival of dinner. Bernie went to answer it, and Serena turned to the boys.

“God help me, but if I wasn’t already in love with her before, I bloody am now. What am I going to do?” she hissed urgently, as soon as Bernie left the room.

“I don’t know Serena, I think you’re going to have to play it by ear. I’m so sure she has feelings for you, that’s really not in doubt.” Paul reached over to pat Serena’s hand.

“Just be thankful you co-lead your ward. It sounds like you would be in all sorts of trouble if you were her boss.” Kev joked.

“Thank you Kevin, that was very helpful.” Serena rolled her eyes at the school teacher. “Why don’t you go and help Bernie with dinner?”

 

The chat turned to more neutral subjects as they ate, and the mood lightened again. Kevin waited until Serena and Bernie had left the room to take the plates to the kitchen and dispose of the pizza boxes.

“I think we should leave early. You’re on call, you can say you need to get home at a decent hour get some sleep in case you’re called in. Or that you have an early start in the morning, something like that,” he said quietly to his husband.

“Why, what for?” Paul was confused.

“Look, the rate they’re going, those two will be pining over each other ‘til kingdom come. Even after that kiss they shared at the club, they're still no further forward. I don't care what Serena says, there was more to it than just putting off some overly persistent bloke. If it’s just the two of them, and they’ve both had a couple of drinks to loosen up... Who knows, maybe it will be just what they need, and one of them will finally say or do something,” explained Kev.

Paul stood, and paced around. “I’m not sure, love. We promised Serena we wouldn’t let her do anything silly, remember?”

Kevin reached for the bottle of Shiraz and emptied the remainder into Serena’s glass.

“She won’t want to leave that, so if we say we have to go, she’s bound to stay to finish it off. Look babe, I know she’s had a fair amount to drink tonight, but she certainly doesn’t seem particularly drunk, or out of control. I just think this might be the perfect opportunity for them to see what we see, when they’re gazing longingly at each other. Please?”

Paul looked at the photo of Bernie, arm slung around her friend and imagined that same look of happiness on her now. 

“Well you can do the lying, Kev. You know I’m no good at it!”

“Yes!” Kev jumped up, grabbed his husband and gave him a big kiss.

Almost before Serena and Bernie knew what was happening, Paul and Kev had left in a flurry of excuses. As soon as Serena opened her mouth to suggest she left with them, she was told it would be practically criminal to leave an almost full glass of such a lovely wine. That she should finish it off and they would see them both at class on Wednesday.

Serena’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at Kevin’s whispered parting shot as he gave her a kiss goodbye.

“Night, Serena, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, you haven’t lost a day. It **IS** Tuesday!  
>  I’ll be spending a large portion of tomorrow on a train, and so you’re getting chapter 18 one day early :D

“At least you can move to a more comfy seat now, Bernie darling,” Serena pointed out as they walked back down the hall to the living room, having seen Kev and Paul to the door. “You should have allowed the boys to be chivalrous to save your poor bottom, guests or no guests.”

Bernie couldn’t help but allow her gaze to drop to Serena’s bum as she followed behind her.

“I couldn’t do that. It’s no ones fault but my own that I never thought beyond the unlikely possibility of my kids visiting, when I only bought a single armchair and a two seater. Who could have predicted that I was going to develop a social life?” she joked.

They had both sat down by this point, Serena back in the chair, and Bernie sinking with a small groan, on to the sofa. Bernie’s eyes strayed to the picture on the mantelpiece, the last photograph she had of the three of them happy together. Before her life had fallen apart so spectacularly. Serena couldn’t stand the look of sadness on her friend’s face and she moved to sit beside her on the small sofa. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back in touch eventually. I assume you’ve tried contacting them?” Serena shifted around in her seat, so she could properly look at Bernie.

“I..I have tried calling, but I think they both might have blocked my number. I wrote letters, but never heard anything back. Sent birthday and Christmas cards and gifts. Again, I heard nothing back.” Bernie didn’t even notice the tear that spilled, and ran down her cheek, until Serena’s thumb brushed it away. 

“They’re both adults, Bernie. Hopefully they’ll eventually stop swallowing all the rubbish that your arse of an ex has been feeding them, and give you the chance to properly have your say. I’m hardly the model for great parent/child relations, mind you. My own darling daughter only ever gets in touch when she wants something. She’s far too like her father, that one,” Serena could tell she was rather drunk, as she rarely allowed her bitterness over her ungrateful offspring to emerge. 

“I presume they have your address here, Bernie? It couldn’t be something as simple as not knowing how to get hold of you, could it?” Serena wanted to try and cheer her friend up, she couldn’t bear seeing Bernie looking so unhappy.

“I always put a return address on everything I sent. I know for sure that the presents arrived safely, because Marcus signed for them. Can you pass my drink over, please?” Bernie hoped this would distract Serena, so they could change the subject. Serena passed Bernie the bottle of cider, but refused to be sidetracked.

“Marcus? You sent the things to his house? Given that the man told any number of lies to turn them against you, do you really think he has been happily passing on post on your behalf?”

Bernie paused, with the bottle half way to her lips. 

“Fuck,” she whispered, shocked. “I can’t believe that didn’t cross my mind. I’m so bloody stupid. I don’t have addresses for either of them, so I didn’t have much choice other than sending things care of Marcus.”

Serena took a healthy swallow from her wine glass and put it on the coffee table with a decisive clunk.

“We’ll work out how to get you back in touch with them, darling. I bet we can find out which hospital Cameron is training at, without too much difficulty. Oh, I know! What about social media? It’s all a bit of a mystery to me, but I do know most of the younger generation seem to share their entire lives on there. We can ask Morven to help, she’s always Facebooking and Twittering. Let’s all put our heads together on Monday and see what we can come up with!” At that, Serena stood and tottered, ever so slightly unsteadily, to the bathroom. 

 

Bernie took a deep breath. She could still feel the ghost of Serena’s thumb, gently brushing away the tear from her cheek. She only had to survive a little while longer. As soon as Serena finished her wine, she’d surely leave and Bernie could relax, safe in the knowledge she had managed not to do anything too silly. 

Draining the last of her cider, Bernie went to stand up to get another. Oh no! Her back had seized up. That bloody folding chair. It was one thing to put up with an aching bum, she could cope with that, but if the thing was going to half-cripple her, it was going straight in the bin!

 

Serena looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. 

“Okay, Campbell, you’ve nearly done it. Hands have been kept to yourself and there have been no declarations of love. Yes okay, you did just have a very quick peek into Bernie’s bedroom, but you can blame that on a poor sense of direction,” she whispered to her reflection. “Now just go back out there, keep the conversation light, and make it safely through the last little bit of the evening. You can do this.” 

 

As she walked back into the living room, she noticed that Bernie seemed to be sitting awkwardly, perched on the edge of the sofa. She also looked pale, and had beads of sweat on her forehead.

“Are you alright, Bernie? You don’t look at all well,” Serena sat beside Bernie, and put a concerned hand on her knee.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s just my back. I don’t think that chair did it any favours. I’ll be fine in a while, I’m sure,” Bernie tried to make her voice airy and unconcerned as she didn’t want Serena to worry. 

“You look like you’re in agony. Do you have any pain relief?”

Bernie shook her head, then immediately gasped and winced as the movement jarred her back.

Serena reached for her handbag, “I have some ibuprofen in here, I think. It’s better than nothing.”

She began rummaging around, in search of the box of painkillers she thought were in there. Her door keys bounced off the empty wine bottle she had stashed earlier, with a distinctive chinking sound.

“What on earth have you got in there?” Bernie asked.

“Oh, Erm it’s a bottle… perfume bottle,” she hastily improvised, wishing she had somehow managed to slip the empty to Paul or Kev on their way out earlier. She spotted the pack of pills, and realised they were next to the bottle of massage oil she had left in there after the last class. Serena brandished both triumphantly.

“Perfect. Painkillers and a massage. That should sort your back out in no time. It’s about time I was able to use the classes on a practical level.”

Serena was so pleased with the idea, she failed to notice the look of horror that crossed Bernie’s face. 

“Oh no, don’t bother yourself, Serena. I’ll be okay with a couple of tablets and a good night’s sleep, I’m sure,” Bernie hastily tried to reassure her friend. “There’s no need to go to any trouble.”

Serena was having none of it. She busied herself getting prepared. She carefully helped Bernie up from the sofa and chivvied her into the bathroom.

“Take a couple of these pills, then if you clean your teeth and go to the loo now, you can go straight to sleep afterwards without having to bother about getting up. I’ll just get everything ready. Go on, darling,” she gave Bernie’s hand a gentle squeeze and left the room. 

Entering Bernie’s room, Serena took a deep breath. ‘You can do this, Campbell!’ She mentally told herself. ‘Just imagine you’re in class, surrounded by other people.’ She placed the massage oil on Bernie’s bedside ‘table’, which was just the box her microwave had come in. That was just _so_ Bernie, Serena thought. She folded the duvet down to the bottom of the bed, smoothed out the sheet, and moved the pillows off to the side. She also tried not to imagine Bernie lying there, naked and gazing at her with loving, come to bed eyes.

“Get a grip,” Serena muttered to herself.

 

“Get a grip,” Bernie muttered to herself, through a mouthful of toothpaste foam. “Serena is just trying to be a good friend. Pretend it’s nothing more than another evening in class.”

As she reached to turn on the tap to rinse her toothbrush, her mouth, and the sink, Bernie involuntarily let out a groan of pain. Almost instantly there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Bernie, are you alright? I hope you’re decent, because I’m coming in!” 

Serena opened the bathroom door as soon as the last word had left her mouth. Bernie was leaning on the sink, toothbrush clutched in her hand. 

“Okay darling, I’ve got you.”

Serena removed the toothbrush from Bernie’s clenched fist, rinsed it, then filled the plastic cup which was on the shelf above the sink, so Bernie could wash her mouth out. She spotted a face flannel draped over the bath, and used it to wipe away the residue of toothpaste foam from Bernie’s chin. 

“Have you taken the ibuprofen yet?” she asked, smoothing the hair back from Bernie’s damp forehead.

“Yes. Double dose,” Bernie managed, through gritted teeth.

“That’s good. Okay Bernie darling, let’s get you into the bedroom.”


	19. Chapter 19

Serena carefully helped Bernie across the hall, and into the bedroom. She was very concerned with just how much pain Bernie was in.

“Do you think I should just call a cab to take us to the ED, Bernie? I’m not sure whether ibuprofen and my amateur attempts at massage are quite going to cut the mustard. I can’t bear seeing you in pain like this, darling,” 

“Oh god, no. I’m not adding to the burden on the NHS with a little bit of backache. It’s only muscular pain. I’ll be fine, Serena, don’t worry. Why don’t you head off home, eh? I’m sure I’ll be right as rain after a bit of kip,” Bernie replied, hopefully. 

“Don’t be silly. I’m not leaving you like this. If it’s muscular, then I should be able to help loosen it up, at least a little. Come on Ms Wolfe, let’s get you undressed and on the bed.” Serena cringed as soon as the last sentence left her mouth. ‘Could have worded that better, Campbell,’ she thought.

Half naked with Serena in massage class had been hard enough to cope with, but half naked in her own bedroom was a terrifying prospect. Bernie struggled with intimacy at the best of times. Inhibited was what Alex was always calling her, and it summed her up precisely. Bernie had never been a tactile person, even with her own children, and right from the start, the massage classes had been difficult for her. Somehow though, the formality of the classroom style setting had helped Bernie get through. This will be no different to class, she told herself. She took a deep breath, winced as it caused a dart of pain to shoot through her back, and then slowly started to unbutton her shirt.

Serena began to remove her own blouse, as the flowing material would only get in the way of the massage. She tried her best not to think about how, under different circumstances, this could be them preparing for bed together. She hung her blouse on the end of the garment rail, leaving her in her camisole, and busied herself smoothing the already smooth sheet, to distract herself from her thoughts. 

Suddenly, she heard a groan of pain from Bernie, and whirled round. Bernie was leaning on the chest of drawers for support, her head hanging down. 

“Oh no, is it getting worse? Shall I call an ambulance? Talk to me Bernie, please!” Serena exclaimed. 

“My bra. I can’t undo my bloody bra,” Bernie replied, in a small and somehow defeated voice. 

“Oh darling, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. First things first, I’m going to take off your trousers. Hopefully you’ll go straight to sleep after the massage, and you’ll be far more comfortable without them. Is that okay?” 

Serena waited for Bernie’s quiet agreement, before carefully peeling the leggings down Bernie’s long legs. She helped Bernie across to the bed and sat her on the edge. She then knelt down and took Bernie’s socks off, before reaching round and unhooking her bra. 

“I’ll..I’ll just go and put these in your laundry basket,” Serena murmured, wanting to give Bernie the privacy to manoeuvre herself into position on the bed.

Serena took the clothes into the bathroom, where she had noticed the laundry hamper earlier. She took the opportunity to quickly drink a glass of water, then looked at herself in the mirror. You’ve got this, Serena, she silently told her reflection. Just think of her in exactly the same way you would a patient. 

Squaring her shoulders, Serena returned to the bedroom. Bernie was lying face down, her head turned away from the door. 

“Bernie? Are you ready for me to begin?” Serena asked, softly.

Bernie momentarily considered not answering, and pretending to be asleep, but she never wanted to be dishonest with Serena. Not even over something small, like feigning sleep. 

“You _really_ don’t have to do this, but yes, I’m ready.”

“There’s no way I can walk away from you when you’re in pain, Bernie. Besides, after all those classes, it will be good to actually put the lessons to use on a practical level,” said Serena, with a little huff of amusement. “By the way darling, I know this is going to be painful, so when you need to swear at me, go right ahead. It will make you feel better to let it out.”

Bernie just grunted in response.

Serena perched on the edge of the bed beside Bernie, and realised her waistband was digging in uncomfortably, thanks to the way she had to twist around. She paused for a few moments before shrugging and standing to slip off her trousers. Bernie was face down on the bed, she’d never know. Serena sat back down, reached for the bottle of oil, and began the massage. She felt the silence stretching out, and so decided to try and take both their minds off the somewhat awkward situation.

“I didn’t have the chance to tell you about Wednesday’s class yet, did I? Almost inevitably, as soon as Dusty realised you weren’t with me, she claimed me to partner up with her for the evening. She began by quizzing me about any potential women I might know, who might want to become the mother of her future grandchild. She seemed terribly disappointed to learn that I don’t have a huge circle of lesbian and bi women friends who are dying to make babies! The only person I could think of, when put on the spot, was Fleur Fanshawe. Have you met Fleur? No? She will want to eat you right up when she gets a load of you. If people think _I’m_ a flirt, it pales into insignificance in the face of Ms Fanshawe.”

Serena shifted her position to get to work on Bernie’s lower back, which finally elicited a low groan of pain from the stoic trauma surgeon.

“Sorry, darling. Is this where the worst of the pain is?”

There was an affirmative answer, ground out through gritted teeth. Serena continued to carefully, but firmly massage Bernie’s lumbar area. She also continued with her monologue.

“You know, I’m not even sure if Neville _wants_ children. I’m not sure he ever gets the chance to express an opinion, to be perfectly honest. Anyway, Dusty was disappointed that all the women in Rainbowz were so young. I think she had hoped it would be a kind of one stop shop for both romance and a vacant uterus for Nev. In the end, she was apparently just leading him around the club, taking him to talk to any fella she liked the look of. Poor Neville really needs to learn to stand up to his mother. From what Paul was telling me in the pub on Wednesday night, Nev has in actual fact, been seeing a fellow called Phil, quite regularly since they met at someone or other’s birthday do at Rainbowz. Maybe this Phil is dragging his heels at the prospect of being introduced to Dusty, and the thought that she will almost inevitably want to immediately march them down the aisle!” 

Serena fell silent, as she felt Bernie’s muscles finally begin to relax under her probing fingers. She lightened her touch to a far more soothing level of massage and carried on. A few minutes later, she couldn’t help but smile when she heard a quiet snore coming from her friend. 

Serena stood up and stretched. She suppressed her own groan of discomfort. The awkward position she’d been sitting in, combined with the physical effort needed to perform the massage had taken its toll. She shuffled through to the bathroom to wash her hands, and brought a warm, damp face flannel back through with her, to wipe the oil from Bernie’s back. There was no need to make a mess of Bernie’s sheets.

Serena was suddenly exhausted. It wouldn’t hurt to just lie down next to Bernie for a couple of minutes, would it? Just a few moments to allow her poor, tired body to relax before calling a cab to take her home. She circled to the other side of the bed and lowered her weary bones on to the mattress. She didn’t want Bernie to get cold, keeping her muscles warm was important, so she reached down, and pulled the duvet over them both.

Just a few minutes, and she would call that cab...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are, lovelies, at the final chapter.  
> Thank you to anyone who stuck around!
> 
> Huge thanks have to go to Shirazkindofgirl, my constant cheerleader.  
> Thank you for your proofreading skills and idea bouncing. ❤️

Bernie was a little perturbed to see a slight shake to her hand, as she made her first coffee of the day. The surprise of unexpectedly waking up next to Serena Campbell had apparently done what performing surgery in active war zones never had. She wandered, mug in hand, into the living room. 

Waking up next to Serena. It was something she’d had slightly guilty fantasies about, ever since meeting her, but had never thought for a second would actually happen. She had also never expected to need to carefully sneak out of her own bed at 6am, so as to not risk waking a sleeping Serena.

Sipping from her steaming mug, Bernie looked again at the picture on her mantelpiece. Not at the one of herself and the kids this time, but of her and Alex. At the obvious closeness and camaraderie between them. She was suddenly hit by a huge wave of longing to talk to her friend. There had been no communication between them, apart from the letter Alex had sent Bernie after she had been airlifted back to the UK. The letter that had stirred Marcus up into such a frenzy. Bernie had never held that against Alex in the slightest. She wasn’t to know that Marcus would go snooping through private correspondence. It had meant, however, that Bernie hadn’t been in any kind of state to respond.

Bernie reached for her mobile phone, and opened the messaging app she had installed at Serena’s insistence. As far as Bernie had been concerned, Serena could pass on anything she needed to know about meeting up with Paul and Kevin, but Serena had been determined that Bernie would be part of the group chat. And what Serena wanted…

Bernie had noticed that it seemed anyone who was saved in the phone’s address book and had the messaging app, was listed. Alex was right at the top of the contacts. With a final glance over at the photo, Bernie took the plunge, and opened a conversation.

 

**_Bernie Wolfe:_** _Hi Alex, it’s Bernie. I don’t know if you use this app at all, I’ve only just been introduced to it by Serena. It’s been a long time, I know, but I thought it was way past time I got in touch. How have you been? I’ve fully recovered from my injuries. You know I was always a fast healer. All I really have to show for it now, are a couple of rather fetching scars. I was very lucky. Serena even called me Wonder Woman when she found out what had happened._

_ I’ve finally settled in a full time position with the NHS after working as locum for a while. I co-lead the AAU ward at Holby City hospital, with Serena. We have a dedicated trauma bay, which is mainly my domain. It’s certainly better equipped than any field hospital we ever worked in. Serena is slowly trying to break me into the bureaucratic ways of the NHS. I think she despairs that I’ll ever reach the bottom of my in tray! Remember how much I always loved admin? Well some things never change. _

_ Talking of change… Well it didn’t take me long to realise what a huge mistake I made when I chose my marriage over my Army career. I think Marcus and I only survived as long as we did because I was away so much. Oh Alex, you were right about me. I know I couldn’t see it at the time, and I was SO angry with you. But you were right, and I’m sorry for how I reacted. So here I am - divorced, with an ex husband who now actively loathes me and two grown up children who haven’t spoken a word to me in about a year. _

_ Anyway, I hope you’re well, and please give my regards to Isobel. _

_ Bernie _

  
  


Bernie’s finger hovered for a few moments over the little arrow that would send the message. Should she leave well enough alone? No, it was time to try and repair the friendship that had meant so much to her. She pressed send, and watched the two ticks appear which, according to Serena, meant the message had been delivered. What surprised her was that the ticks almost immediately turned blue, meaning the message had been opened. Her stomach clenched as she soon saw ‘ _ Alex is typing…’  _ appear at the top of the screen. She hadn’t expected to get an almost instant reply.

 

**_Alex Dawson:_** _Oh Bernie, it’s_ ** _so_** _great to hear from you, mate! I’m back in the UK and also working for the good old NHS. I decided that it was time to hang up my Army boots and that Izzy deserved a full time wife. I’m also working at the same hospital as Iz, in fact. We’re not on the same ward, like you and your new love interest though. So, tell me all about Serena then… how long have you been together? Oh, and I need to see a pic, obvs!_

_ I’m shocked to hear that Marcus took the divorce so badly. He always sounded like a decent enough bloke when you talked about him. And the kids? Surely C&C are well old enough to realise that sometimes relationships just don’t work out in the end? _

“What on Earth? Why would she think Serena is my love interest?” 

**_Bernie Wolfe:_ ** _ Serena? She’s a work colleague. She’s a friend. I do have a picture of her though, if I can work out how to send it. Hang on. _

**_Bernie Wolfe:_ **

**_Bernie Wolfe:_** _No wait, that’s not a very good one of her._

**_Bernie Wolfe:_ **

**_Bernie Wolfe:_** _That’s a far better shot of her. Anyway, like I said she’s become quite a good friend._

**_Alex Dawson:_** _Bernie mate, at the risk of things kicking off between us again, I’m not blind. I can see how you look at each other, just from these two photos. Don’t you think you’ve waited long enough to find proper love? Look carefully at those two pics you sent. Look really, really carefully, and think about what you see._

 

Bernie went back to the picture folder in her phone and looked through the photos she had of her and Serena. There were quite a few, thanks to Kev’s love of a selfie, and of taking a ton of photos of the people around him. He kept sharing them within the group, so Bernie had a  _ lot _ of pictures saved on her phone.

She swiped from picture to picture.

 

“My god, she’s right. I might as well have been wearing a bloody sandwich board with ‘I love Serena Campbell!’ on it,” she whispered, in a shocked voice.

Bernie heard a loud gasp, and looked up to see Serena standing in the doorway, wide eyed.

“S-Serena, I didn’t realise you were there.”

“You love me?” Serena asked, hoarsely.

Bernie had thought she had seen Serena looking at her most beautiful the previous weekend, all dressed up for their night out. She was so wrong. It turned out that Serena Campbell was at the pinnacle of beauty when she had just stumbled out of bed, a dazed look in her eyes, her hair sticking up all over the place, with the creases from the pillow across her cheek.

“No. No wait! Not no. Yes.”

Bernie sucked in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, then slowly released it. She got up and crossed to stand in front of Serena. Tentatively taking hold of Serena’s hand, Bernie tried desperately to order her thoughts.

“I think… No, I know that I have fallen… Serena, I love you. I’m as shocked as you are, if I’m being honest. It’s taken me by surprise too. I realise this might make you feel uncomfortable, that it will be too awkward to work with me, and I understand. Maybe Mr Hanssen can find me something else-”

Bernie was cut off by the warm press of Serena’s lips against hers. They wrapped their arms around each other, Serena’s hand inexorably drawn to Bernie’s silky blonde hair.

“Sorry,” Serena gasped, once they came up for air.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks!” 

Suddenly, Serena, who was usually so articulate, able to charm funds from the notoriously stingy hospital Board with a few well placed sentences, was lost for words. 

“Shall we sit down?” she managed.

 

As they sat, side by side on the small sofa, she could feel Bernie becoming more and more tense. An idea came to her, and she reached for her handbag, rummaging inside for her phone. Where the hell was it? She began taking things out, including the empty wine bottle, which she placed on the coffee table. Ah, there it was. Oh. The empty wine bottle. She turned, to see Bernie looking at her, eyebrows raised.

“I’ll… Er, I’ll tell you in a moment,” Serena promised and began scrolling through her phone. She found what she wanted, and handed it to Bernie.  
  


**_Serena Campbell:_** _Well, yes I suppose I was, in all honesty. I just can’t seem to see enough of her. I sound like a ridiculous teenager with a bloody crush, don’t I?_

**_Kevin Barker:_ ** _ No Serena, you sound like a woman in love. _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Oh god, I think you’re right. _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ I think… _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ No, I know... _

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Boys, I love her. _

  
  


“I actually got here about an hour early yesterday. I sat in your stairwell, chatting to the boys, and that happened. I was so shocked,  _ that _ happened,” she gestured towards the empty Shiraz bottle. “I drank half a bottle while I sat there, getting my head around the fact I had fallen head over heels in love with my friend without even realising it. I drank the other half after seeing you in that tiny towel! It’s no wonder I dropped off in your bed after the massage.” she chuckled.

Bernie blushed at the memory. 

“So you only realised last night? I just had it pointed out to me by Alex. From a photograph. How blind have we been, Serena?” Bernie took hold of Serena’s hand again. “Do you… Do you think we should give this a go?” she asked, shyly.

“This terrifies the life out of me. I’m scared of opening my heart again, scared to risk getting hurt,” Serena said, quietly.

“I understand, believe me. I'm scared too, but we can find our way through this, I know we can. Some things are just worth the risk, Serena. Don’t you think?” 

Serena looked into the warm, brown eyes of her… her beloved. 

“I love you, Bernie Wolfe,” she cupped Bernie's face, thumb gently caressing her cheek bone, before leaning forward and kissing her softly.

“I love you too, Serena Campbell.” Bernie couldn’t help the huge grin she could feel spreading across her face. “I love you. I love you. God, it feels amazing to say that!”

“It feels amazing to hear it, darling.”

  
  


They finally pulled apart after several minutes of passionate kissing.

“I could honestly sit here and kiss you all day, but can I suggest a cup of tea, then we go and take a nap? It’s way too early to be up on a Sunday, especially after two bottles of wine the night before. I rather think I would like a cuddle,” Serena murmured, once she had her breath back. 

Bernie stole one last kiss, “I’ll go and put the kettle on.” 

  
  


**Group chat: Serena &Bernie&Paul&Kev**

 

**_Serena Campbell:_ ** _ Well boys, you’ll never believe this… _

  
  
  



End file.
